Twilight
by J.A. Carlton
Summary: Narrowly escaping from the hands of his torturer, Dean fights for his life while Sam stands guard helpless and enemies close in from all sides to reclaim him for their own. Followup to Pitch Black
1. Chapter 1

Excerpted from Pitch Black --

Previously...

"Please stop," he breathed feeling his heart hammering, heat burning from inside. His left hand spasmed against the wet dank brick where she'd sunk the first nail into him,

"No," she pressed the tip of the nail into his elbow, leaning deep into it, watching it sink into his skin, feeling it press against bone, then begin to crack the outer shell. The first strike had been fast, sharp, hard, and just to make sure she had his full attention. This one was for pleasure.

He screamed just before she bent her own elbow and thrust the nail the rest of the way through his until the point stopped against the stone behind him. She smirked holding the hammer up before his eyes again, grinning as he shook his head, his beautiful luminous green eyes nearly glowing with fear.

"No! No don't... please..." he ground his teeth feeling himself light on fire once again until the metallic 'clinking' was drowned out by the screaming.

--

"Dean?... Oh God..." Sam's throat squeezed shut, his breath stopped and he fought every urge to throw himself backwards, away from this impossibility, _This is NOT my brother... this... no! NO! Oh God..._ finally a gasp stabbed the night as he reached out, uncertain where to touch him that wouldn't cause him pain. His fingers slid around his brothers' neck, finding the divot where his pulse should have been. "No... C'mon Dean... please... come ON Dean! Don't you DO THIS to me!"

Dean's head whipped to the side and his body jerked. His eyes shot open for a split second as he screamed, "Sammy!" then fell silent and still again.

"T'sokay Dean... I'm here, s'alright, you're gonna be alright, I promise..." he choked resting his head on the pillow too while petting his sweat soaked hair, "S'gonna be alright, I'm here, I gotcha."

--

"Yes, GONE you idiot! What part of GONE don't you get?! Out of my sight, UNABLE to be FOUND, MISSING! GONE! STOLEN!" she railed, turning toward him, the soft, usually impassive twelve year old face beside him twisted and warped, pure fury blazing through her empty eye sockets as she closed on him, repelling him toward the stairs, "You WILL _FIND_ THEM!"

--

Twilight – sn fic – chpt 1.

by: sifi.

--

A hiccough popped out of Laura's throat. Her hand clasped over her mouth as Sam rested his head beside his big brothers'. She watched his long gentle fingers slide through Dean's hair while he assured the man that he wasn't alone.

"I'm here Dean, I gotcha, t'sokay... just rest now okay? I'll keep watch," he whispered tightly. With every ounce he had, he fought the tears and pain he wanted to scream out in his brothers' behalf. _Hasn't he already suffered ENOUGH!? Who do I have to exorcise to get him a break!?_ he wondered.

She moved to the bedside, finding herself on her knees between Sam in the chair and Dean suffering so grievously in the bed. _We need to get him to a hospital. Please Dean, please regain consciousness. Please._ She urged silently. With her head bowed down she dropped a warm hand onto Sam's knee while reaching the other to the far side of Dean's face to stroke his cheek.

"I... uh... I need to go outside for a bit..." she breathed.

Sam nodded. It was daytime and whatever might have lurked in the night might think twice before attacking in the light.

_If she doesn't get some rest she's gonna fall apart..._ Sam nodded to himself as she leaned over to press her mouth to Dean's leaving words of love for him to taste should he wake any time soon.

"Don't go too far," Sam admonished as the motel room door closed behind her.

--

She stepped out into the sunlight, blinded by the obscene brightness. In a moment she had her bearings and moved to the right. She followed the structure until the wall turned. The far end of it facing an empty field tall with weeds and thick grasses. Another glance around told her the moment was hers. She turned with her back to the wall and fell apart.

Her hands pressed hard to catch both sobs and tears as the stucco gripped the back of her clothes while she slid down, her knees to her chest, forehead upon them with her arms sliding over her head in a posture of self protection.

_Please don't take him away from me. Please... don't take him away. _

She could feel his solid heat behind her, his arm protective around her and his knees behind hers as they were when they managed to spend the night together. She could taste his kisses and feel the warmth of his air behind her ear, on her neck. His chuckles and easy laughter lay gently draped over her. He gave her world texture and light. The knowledge of his presence constructed a simple desire to move through another day. Her love for Sam was equally true, but infinitely different.

Her body flushed with heat and hate for whoever had hurt him. She didn't care why, that would be for Sam to contend with. She wanted pain. _I need to help him. I need to heal him... I need to save him... they're mine, both of them, and I failed... I failed them so thoroughly... God how could I let that happen? I can save him, them. I can save them both. Yeah, whatever it takes, I can do it. _She paid no mind to the tiny voice inside that whispered faintly a need for rest. _I'll save them if it's the last thing I do, I swear. _

Her fist collided with the volcanic rock that surrounded the building. It sounded like styro-foam rubbing together and felt like sandpaper against her knuckles. _I will skin whoever did that to him alive. And I'll enjoy it. _

--

"...aaamm..." Dean pushed painfully through his swollen throat. His head tossed to the side and a wave of heat rolled off of him. His red, fever glassed eyes opened searching the room, squinting as he frowned. _...trick, doan say ennething...shhhh_. He reminded himself, "eggznam... sszzam Iyam..." he muttered trying to fix his gaze into the furrowed blue-greens in front of him. Something warm and strong grabbed him behind the head, _non't... cut m'throat... bad... so bad..._ then there was a familiar sensation at his mouth. Cool nubbly wetness rubbed gently over his lips and drips slid down his chin.

"C'mon Dean, open up just a little man... come on now," Sam urged softly, holding the dripping cool cloth at his brothers mouth. Dean's eyes met his and though recognition flitted through faster than a gnat, it had been there. "That's right big brother... open up now, come on its just water..."

He worked his fingers gently downward, pushing the cool fluid toward the corner of the cloth Dean had taken between his parched and peeling lips. He watched to make sure his throat moved several times quickly then stopped squeezing when a few coughs sputtered out a fine spray.

"Okay, okay that's good, that's real good Dean," he choked laying his head back down and still managing to bolster up the pillows beneath him.

"...am?" he croaked trying to raise his left hand only to scream out in pain and half pass out with the experience.

"Yeah, yeah it's me Dean I promise... you can't do that... You're hurt okay? Bad," Sam nodded, his hand on the far side of his brothers face, his thumb wiping the accidental tears that had come with the pain.

"Mmm 'kay... Szammy sez, mmm 'kay..."

"_Where'd you hear that?" John asked looking at his eldest son with a strange expression on his face. 'did he overhear what we were talking about? How would he know about a creature like that?' he wondered. _

_Dean shrugged turning the book so he could see the picture and read the hand written caption beneath it, "S'what Sam said... You don't wanna insult a Tengu, treat it with deference and you might be able to convince it to back off, but if you go in guns blazing you'll probably just get it to change its focus to you," he explained glancing at Sam's 11 year old back sitting at the coffee table, his head bouncing with whatever music was on his walkman. _

"_Sam? Sam said that?" John asked. _

"_Uh huh," Dean nodded. _

"_Are we talking about the same Sam here?" he asked again pointing to his youngest son who openly lamented their lifestyle. "That one? Your brother? The one who..."_

"_Yes dad. Just cause he doesn't like it doesn't mean he doesn't learn things. He's already got the Time Life books almost memorized. He may not give a crap about hunting but he's gonna be a one man reference library, and like you always say, knowledge is power." _

"_Well I'll be damned," John nodded his expression fairly impressed. _

"That's right big brother, Sammy Says, and Sammy says you need to suck down a little water here then rest your eyes okay?"

Dean's head nodded under his hand and he worked to draw moisture from the cloth at his mouth while working just as hard to swallow it down the right pipe this time.

"Good," Sam praised softly through the hot tingling in his eyes, "good man," he brushed Dean's hair off to the side for want of something else to do, some means of assuring both of them that 'together' is they way they needed to be. Together, is how they were going to survive.

"Sszafe? Yohkay?" he grunted.

"Yeah Dean you're safe and I'm okay, and you're gonna be okay too, I promise."

"Nohn't go..." Dean mumbled.

Sam shook his head wiping away those damned drops that wouldn't leave him alone, "Not a chance in hell man. Not a chance in hell."

--

Sam looked at his watch and frowned. More than three hours had passed since Laura left him and Dean alone in their room. Sam had milked his brothers' arm almost half a dozen times, Dean rousing just enough to let him know it hurt like crazy. Sam wasn't sure but he thought that maybe some of the darkness wasn't maybe so dark any longer. _Please let him be able to keep his arm, please... course if it's a choice, I'll keep his life instead, but still..._ he half prayed watching several balloons of green and yellow pus erupt through the holes and slices in his skin, followed by brackish blood that began to show actual signs that it might be red somewhere inside him.

He'd gone to the door a few times, looked into the lot, noted her car there and wondered if maybe she'd crawled into the back seat to get a little sleep and give the boys some space. He hadn't left the room to check, though he did call her name once or twice.

_She doesn't expect me to leave Dean, she'd kill me if I left him, hell she wouldn't need to kill me, it ain't gonna happen. Where the hell...?_ a couple quick raps and the door knob turning brought a grateful sigh forward that he hadn't known was in there.

She put a couple deeply filled paper bags on the table and set about unpacking things.

_She looks like hell. Definitely been crying. _ "What'd you get?" he asked meeting her at the table.

"Just stuff," she shrugged pulling out numerous containers of food from different restaurants nearby. There was Chinese, Italian, and standard American fare to choose from out of one of the bags. The other held more gauze, tape, antibiotic ointment, boxes of sutures, and 16 bags of intravenous antibiotics, then under that layer was a twelve pack of beer, a fifth of whiskey and a bottle of rum, and a six pack of soda. A flash of red caught Sam's attention as she organized the supplies.

"You didn't take the car..." he shook his head grasping her hand and turning it over so he could inspect her raw meaty knuckles. He spocked his eyebrow then looked at her other hand, finding more of the same. "Get into a fight with a wall or something?" he asked.

"Something like that," she nodded then sighed, "The walk was good, how's he doing?" she asked unable to take her eyes from the man in the bed.

Sam nodded, "I think he's doing better. He wakes up when I milk out his arm, he says it hurts."

"Yeah," she sniffed breathing hard and glancing from him to Sam, "Why can't I just...? I want to just... make it gone! Why can't I do that?" she pleaded moving to Dean's side, draping one hand atop his head and the other on his chest. She tossed a look at Sam and took a deep breath speaking the words at the same instant he moved across the room toward her, "Give it to me!"

--

tbc.

Please R&R.

Thanks

sifi.


	2. Chapter 2

Twilight – chpt 2.

by: sifi

Can't believe I forgot this but:

Disclaimer: Present and accounted for ladies and gentlemen.

Love: Always.

--

"Oh no you don't," he ground, lifting her away from his brother.

"Lemme GO Sam!" she pushed and tried to shove herself out of his arms as he brought her back to the table and held her by the shoulders.

"Are you crazy!?" he yelled.

"It doesn't work anyway! I tried it! And I tried and I tried! All night long I tried to take it from him...and either he won't let go or I just... I'm just..." _to weak,_ she stopped and shook her head.

Sam felt his jaw drop in disbelief, _Is she STUPID? What? Oh for God's sake man what if someone came pounding the door down? What the hell did she think she was doing?_ he felt himself rail inside, and true to his nature, he called her on it. "You _what_? I can't believe you! You're a lot of things but I didn't think STUPID was one of 'em! With him in this condition you tried to put yourself in jeopardy all night long? What if whatever did this to him came in the night? What the hell did you think was gonna happen if something came tearing down the door? You think I could protect you BOTH!?" he demanded furiously. "You KNOW you'd be on your own, I'd HAVE to let you stand on your own to protect him! We BOTH know that."

"He doesn't deserve this Sam, whoever did that to him, he doesn't deserve to feel that kind of pain. I just wanted to take the hurt," her eyes overflowed though she shoved the droplets angrily away, "I can take it."

"He'd never allow that," he grunted around his own tightening throat. He would've given anything he could to take that pain from Dean as well. _Hypocrite, yell at her for trying to do what you know you can't, even though you would have done the same thing._ "Did you influence him?" he asked suspiciously. _Don't lie to me..._

"Of course I did, rest, heal, dreamless sleep, full recovery, you heard it all..." she shrugged.

"Nothing more? Nothing else?" he asked watching her closely.

"Just trying to take it from him," she shook her head.

Sam frowned nodding his head harshly, "Then you're a liar."

She looked at him with a cocked eyebrow but had the good sense not to deny his accusation. _About which thing Sam? And are you counting omission as a lie too?_

"Last night, you lied to me. You said you only channel the energy... when was the last time you looked in the mirror?"

"I'm tired Sam."

"All the times... all the things in the last two years... it's gonna kill you, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let that happen to him!" he ground angrily.

From the bed Dean groaned and keened as Laura's stomach flipped over sending her racing to the bathroom and Sam to his brothers' bedside where he grimaced at the sound of something chunky splattering into the toilet.

"Tell me please... who's he?" Dean grunted, "Please..."

Sam mopped his forehead, talking softly as the toilet flushed and the water ran, "It's okay Dean, you're safe. C'mon big brother, open those eyes a minute and see me okay? Please?"

_Ahh the magic word, _he smiled softly as Dean's eyes opened to flit around the room.

Laura stepped from the bathroom to join the boys.

"Hey, look who's here..." Sam motioned her into the chair noting how waxy she looked, very much like she had this morning. He leaned down and whispered into her ear, "Don't be stupid."

She nodded and sighed as Sam's eyes trailed to her chest, "Got a little blood on your shirt by the way," he pointed out before stepping back to get finish organizing the supplies she'd brought.

"Hey sweetie," she choked spiking up his hair as she kissed his temple.

"Hey, where are we?" he mumbled trying to remember if he remembered this room.

"We had to change motels, it was too dangerous to stay in the other one, and we're going to have to move again soon. We need to get you to a hospital, get you checked out properly," she smiled tightly.

To both of their surprise Dean nodded, his tongue rasping over his dry lips, "Water?"

"Sure," she smiled holding his head up while Sam brought over a cup with a straw in it. He sipped and focused hard on his little brother, half smirking, half frowning.

"Knew it wasn't you..." he sighed leaning back exhausted already with a faint smile, "...at's m'boy,"

"That's one of the reasons we have to get out of here Dean, whoever did this to you killed a man the looks like Sam, at least enough to warrant getting Hendrickson out here. I'm sorry I have to ask you this, but do you know who or what they were? What they wanted?" she asked.

He rolled his head back and forth, "I asked the bitch, she just..." his voice caught, his eyes squeezed shut and tears leaked out. He rolled his lips between his teeth, biting down on them and tried to roll his body away, turning his back with slow, agonizing determination away from them both grinding back the howls of pain that wanted to rip the air from the movement of his arm.

"I'm sorry, oh God Dean I'm so sorry..." she leaned forward, her arm encircling his head while her lips came to rest near his ear, "Please... let me help you, let me share your pain..." she begged heedless of Sam's deepening frown behind her.

_Go 'way, just leave me alone..._ he wanted to say, while a part of him begged to turn around and assure himself that they were really there, that he wasn't alone. That part of him wishing, begging for confirmation that he mattered to someone, and that someone was going to care for him now that he'd proven himself worthy of it by surviving. "Szleep," he grunted and moaned as he pulled his knees upward.

Sam looked over her shoulder to where the blanket slid off his brothers' back. Hash marks of black, and red and deep purple marred his skin and Sam felt a blaze of hatred shoot through him. Whatever had hurt his brother was going to die, if it was the last thing he ever did. Whatever it was that owned those ruby red lips he'd seen in the vision was little more than walking dead. _She just better pray I get to her before Laura does, after the crossroad host I don't think there'd be much to hold her back._ He took a deep breath and cracked open the whiskey, taking a slug from the bottle before passing it to her.

"Thanks," she nodded taking a slug of her own then poured some onto the washcloth Sam had used for Dean's first few sips of water. "Dean?" she asked passing the cloth in front of his nose. His eyes opened and his head turned slightly, his frown questioning. "It's not like I'm giving you three fingers over ice hon. You're going to have to get through with the antibiotics before I can condone that," she smiled.

A realization dawned that despite the huge quantity of supplies she'd been able to procure from the local hospital, she hadn't brought back any pain killers of any kind.

She squeezed the amber liquid down to the corner and into his mouth watching his swollen throat work hard to take it down. The faintest smile tilted his lips as he turned his head back to face the wall and seemed to breathe just a little easier.

--

"Excuse me miss, have you seen any of these people?" he asked sliding three copies of sketches across the desk to the receptionist.

She glanced at them each, an eyebrow raised while her mouth bowed down, "Well this one's the sketch they've been showing on the news, that guy who was beaten to death," she drew out the second sketch, "And that's the guy they're looking for who they think did it... the other one, no, never seen her," she snapped her gum and slid the sheets back across the desk.

"And anyone brought in would have to come through here right? I know this man..." he slid out the sketch of the elder brother, "... he had some pretty hefty wounds, hospital worthy... seems the other guy put up a helluva fight. His name is Dean, I don't know what last name he'd be using," he tried to prompt.

"Sir I'm sorry, I can't help you, no one that looks like this guy has been brought in. EVER, with a face like that believe me I'd remember. We don't grow 'em that good looking around here."

"What about the body of the man who was beaten to death?" he asked.

"Morgue's down the hall to the right, take the elevator to the basement and follow the signs," she instructed as he slid a card across the desk to her.

"If either this man, or this woman comes in here I need you to call me. Keep the pictures back there so everyone can see them," he instructed.

She taped the card to the sketch of Dean, then tacked it up on the cork board behind the desk. "If he comes in we'll call..." she squinted at the name, "Special Agent Hendrickson."

He nodded curtly, then swept past the desk.

"Hey!" she called stopping him in his tracks. "There's no name on the girls' picture."

"That's 'cause we don't know it yet, but she's harboring that fugitive and she's most likely just as dangerous as he is," he said matter-of-factly before returning to his path, he needed to see with his own eyes the body they claimed belonged to Sam Winchester. _No way in hell that boy would kill his own brother... no way in hell. _

--

"Dean... please," she breathed softly against his cheek, "Please, I need to find out who did this to you and why."

"Mmmm garnet... bitch... lips... god those lips... so soft... kiss... mmm please..." he sighed pulling the blanket up to his neck, "Kill me... please..." he groaned then slid away from them again.

"Laura don't..." Sam half asked, half warned. He'd seen what could happen when she dipped into someone, he remembered another motel room not so long ago, and the exorcism he and their dad had performed to draw out a piece of demon from his brother's mind. That bit of demon having used his worst fears against him, locking him inside his own head in the hopes of driving him mad, making him useless as a hunter. The surprise had come when just after that slice of demon was drawn from Dean, another slice of it was also drawn from Laura. Dean had accidentally broken her hand that night though that certainly hadn't been the worst of the injuries she'd had to contend with.

"You don't get to tell me what to do Sam... I don't know what I'd get anyway but I have got to try. We can't leave this area and just let whatever did this to him get away with it!" She growled backing him across the room where they could hope to keep Dean undisturbed.

"Yeah as a matter of fact when it comes to him I DO get to tell you anything I damn well please. Look, I know you love him, I know you want to help him, believe me I do too. And yes, if it could be done, I'd be the one to take it away from him. He's MY family! MY BLOOD! No matter what else there is out in the world WE," he motioned between Dean and himself, "are all we have!"

"You are BOTH my responsibility, you're the only family I've got and NOTHING short of death itself is gonna keep me from protecting the both of you!" she argued, her voice a harsh whisper.

"Then you better get it through your thick skull that keeping _us_ safe means keeping yourself out of harms way too. What you do, what and who you kill on your own time? I don't care, but until he's safe and on his feet again, you're gonna keep your damned head down just like us, is that clear?" he asked forcefully.

"I don't agree," she shook her head, "I can find out who did this to him and recon while you get him out of here, to somewhere safe."

"And if he needs medical help that I can't provide along the way? For the record, your 'agreement'? It's not necessary. This is NOT negotiable. Whatever you want to do, you're NOT doing it 'til he's safe, don't make me say it again," he warned.

A wide grin spread over her mouth taking Sam by surprise, "What?" he asked.

"You sound just like your dad," she smiled.

Sam was momentarily taken aback, _How the hell would you know... oh yeah..._ he shook his head remembering the time she would have had with John as he recovered at Bobby's while she learned what they both knew about hunting evil.

"Alright," she nodded, "We'll play it your way for now."

Sam nodded curtly, "Good. Now tell me what the hell's going on with you... why are you puking blood?"

_He might be able to help figure out what's going on if I talk to him... _she nodded and looked at Dean who lay sleeping soundly, his features relaxed. She went to the bed and pressed her forehead to his temple, "No dreams sweetie, just rest," she smiled breathing him in with a faint smile before joining Sam at the table.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"I need the burger," she popped the top off the container and picked up the sandwich.

"Geez, did they even put it on the grill?" Sam grimaced at the bright pink slab of meat.

"Waved it under the heat lamp," she smiled ripping into it.

"You like your burgers almost well... what's up? Is it about what's going on with you?" he asked.

"Things have been a little... weird since the cone of power thing," she shrugged.

"Weird like how?"

She cracked open a soda and sat back, "I think it's killing me."

--

tbc.

Please R&R.

Thanks sifi


	3. Chapter 3

Twilight – chpt 3

by: sifi

--

"I've been everywhere, not even the Agent from the FBI can find them, they may be long gone already," he kept his head bowed, the rage, when it came to her face was more than he could bear. It made his blood stick sludge-like in his veins so even his heart had to struggle to do its job.

"They are not gone yet, they're hidden. It's the woman. She's the unknown quantity here, she must be found and brought back to me. Whatever this power she has... it will be mine, then will come the brothers," she stopped before the man and pressed her hand to his head.

"But... you let him go, the other would have come," he dared to question.

"On _his_ terms. No. Just as we took the older one, on MY terms, so shall we have them both," she sighed and turned her eyeless face back toward the window, the sun shining bright overhead brought the colors to life, "There's something holy out there," she frowned breathing quietly.

His head snapped up, the memory of that giddy spark of hope he'd once known when his daughter spoke of something holy, "Where?"

"It moves, it ebbs and flows. Find them, I want the protection they will offer," she nodded.

"Wi... why?" he gulped dryly then shook his head.

"Yes?"

"Why did you let him escape in the first place?" he asked.

"Can you imagine what he will feel after such difficulty, after escaping such agony as our dear Drusilla has inflicted upon him..."

"Aileen..." he breathed.

She sighed and he would have sworn he could see the shadow of her eyes rolling they way they used to before darkness descended upon his children, "You never watched the show, TRUST me, with her gift for cruelty, she IS a nearly perfect Drusilla... it's fitting, and it's what I chose to name her..." her voice began to rise.

"Of course, I'm sorry... the agony she inflicted on him?" he guided her hastily back to whatever explanation she might be content to offer.

"Yes, after escaping that agony with barely the will to drag himself from the yard, to believe himself safe and on the road to recovery when not only will he awaken once again to find his nightmares have come true, BUT he will have also led us straight to the chosen one, and this time it WILL be his brother across from him. It will be his own flesh and blood that calls his name while I feast on the strength of one, and the will of the other. There will be no human that can touch me," she smiled.

"What about the woman? What if she's the one shielding them from your view?" he asked.

"Then she has power I must have."

--

LAKEVIEW, OREGON

"WAIT!" he screamed but it was too late. The body of his host was falling and before he knew it, he was burning.

"Oops," Shepard McGregor tilted his head to the side with a smirk as the demon inside the man screamed and yowled, flailing in a trough of holy water, and bound by a salt pentagram on the ground. "Boy you done in there yet?" he barked pressing the body of the host under the water, giving just enough for the demon to breathe and scream its agony into his ears, drowning out the sound of the screaming from inside the cabin.

"There's a war coming!" it screamed.

"Newsflash! It's _here..._" he smiled then pat the man's head, "Just hold up it won't be too long now..."

Despite the copious billows of steam rolling out of the trough, and the obvious pain the thing must've been in, it somehow managed to cackle with just a little too much sadistic glee for Shep, "You think _your _kind are gonna wage war on us? Not even close you vulgar little primate," it sneered as a blonde haired man jogged down the steps holding a volume of Rites of Exorcism.

"Sorry Shep, last bastard had some fight in him," Tommy smiled grimly.

"The host?" Shep asked.

Tommy shook his head, his lips tight in a single line across his tired face.

"Hello demon willing to make a deal here!" the creature groaned angrily, the holy bathwater taking some of the starch from its sails.

Tommy cocked his head to the side, his cornflower blue eyes piercing with mistrust.

"He says there's a war coming," Shep nodded.

Tommy nodded slowly, "A little slow on the uptake huh? Not the brightest bulb in the box... it's okay I'm sure you did the best you could."

"You're insects in a playground full of giants, y'know what? Just send me back...some other idiot's bound to open another gate sometime... maybe after the war's over," he shook his head.

"I have to admit I'm a little curious," Shep nodded and looked at his nephew.

"Yeah, I'll bite," he nodded and together they lifted the demon possessed passer-through out of the trough, but made certain to keep him inside the pentagram.

"You gonna let me go?" it asked.

"Maybe," Shep shrugged.

"Probably not," Tommy shook his head.

"But it IS possible," Shep added.

"Yeah it's possible," Tommy drawled reluctantly, "But not likely," he warned.

The demon shook its hosts' head, "Humans. You guys think old yellow eyes getting that gate open was the first breech, but... SURPRISE! You have no idea what you're gonna get squashed by. It's older than us, and by us I mean us..." he tapped his chest, "not you skittering rodents."

Tommy placed the toe of his boot near one of the salt lines, "This thing got a name?" he asked.

It leaned toward him and breathed deep then smiled darkly, "It's been a while since you've seen 'em... but, why don't you ask your friends, you know... the 'Chosen' one and his good right arm... 'specially now that that's all he's got that's workin'..."

Tommy and Shep exchanged a confused look, the demon sighed and made to stand up from the edge of the trough where they'd been keeping him seated. "The Winchesters? Your old buddies?"

"They know what it's called and you don't?" Shep asked.

"I never said I don't know, just that maybe you should find out exactly WHAT they let _into_ the world before they let _us out_," he sneered.

Tommy and Shep looked at each other, the younger man poked the demon host in the chest just enough to tip him back into the trough where the screaming and flailing began again.

"Boy it was sure nice of Buck to leave us his cabin for this kind of stuff wasn't it?" Tommy asked.

"Sure was."

"I am NEVER trusting another hunter!" he screamed as Tommy began to read.

--

"I got it..." he grunted shoving her hand away, the movement sending a shockwave through him, straight up his left arm and into his head. Nausea rocked him backwards and he clutched her behind the neck in an effort to keep his balance. She fought the draw forward, her forehead hitting his stomach while her hands struggled to ease up his boxers.

"Sorry," he groaned as she looked up, still on her knees in a very precarious position.

"Sweetie you know I love you but this isn't the time or the place... your brother's waiting in the bathroom, and I don't think this is something he'd want to see," she smirked finally drawing a faint smile out of him as she worked the loose fitting shorts up around his waist. Back on her feet she stroked his cheek, taking in the deepening creases that betrayed his pain.

"This is humiliating," he muttered softly wondering if this is how she'd felt after things went so horribly wrong in Chicago.

"Coulda been worse, I did pick up a couple catheters and a bag y'know," she grinned, "I coulda had some fun with that."

He rolled his eyes, she knew full well how much he hated those things, "Is there anyone's junk in my family that you _haven't_ seen?"

She shook her head briskly and smiled a Cheshire grin, "Nope," then called over her shoulder, "Sam can you get some aspirin please?"

"You decent?" he asked cracking open the bathroom door.

"I'm awesome," Dean grunted taking the pills and water from his little brother.

"Sam hold him up a little so I can get these jeans on him," she instructed tapping the elder hunter's left leg until he leaned back into his brother and lifted it enough for her to slide the pant leg on. The heavy cotton fabric pressed against the wrap around his foot, making him grit his teeth against the memory of the board of nails he'd pried from the extremity.

"Sorry Dean, I'm sorry..." she muttered setting his foot back down on the floor gently then tapping his right leg.

Sam stood behind his big brother, his arms under Dean's, his body solid and stable for him to lean against. His eyes fell on the IV tubing that was filling backwards with blood, he grimaced and reached over grabbing the palm sized soft plastic bag and tucking it into his shirt pocket.

"Just shut it off for now, that bags' almost done anyway, I'll change it after we finish getting him dressed," she said softly.

"I could do it... shoulda just sat down..." he huffed breathlessly as she tapped his foot down and started working the jeans carefully up.

Their eyes went to the bed, the sheets stripped off and tossed into a ball in the corner, the mattress spotted and wet with blood, pus, and various other fluids.

"Would kinda defeat the purpose of putting CLEAN clothes on you," Sam grimaced.

"Chair," he nodded his head.

"I'm not so sure you'll be wanting to get back up once you sit down, speaking of which," she motioned to Sam who helped guide and support him to the chair.

Dean crinkled his face, "I'd kill for a shower," _or to be better enough to really have enjoyed that sponge bath,_ then sat slowly, his right hand gripping his little brother's arm like a vise. His grip told Sam everything that mattered, he was in agony, and the ease with which they were guiding, supporting and maneuvering him, told him that his big brother was long way from healing.

Dean's gaze turned to his left arm, "It looked worse before," he noted catching Laura's eyes. The statement was a question in disguise and she knew it.

"It's come a long way already, but we need to get you to a hospital, we need x-rays, and we need to find out if the infection has infiltrated your bones, if it has..." she shook her head.

"Will I lose it?" he asked.

"Depends on the extent of the infection, they might be able to just cut out infected parts, but if it's too rampant, you might, that's why we have to go, as soon as night falls," she explained watching him shrug with his mouth and nod his understanding, even though the faint gloss in the corners of his eyes gave away his fear.

"Dean?" Sam asked pulling out one of the containers, "You think you can eat something?" he asked.

"Yeah," Dean nodded as Sam reached for a knife and fork to start cutting the breaded chicken breast in the container. Dean scowled at his little brother then picked up the breast and started chewing on it.

Laura slid his left arm gingerly into the hole of a tank shirt smiling softly while he slid his right into the other arm hole, never letting go of the chicken breast as she drew it over his head and carefully stretched it over his chest and belly, making sure not to snag any of the ends of the suture knots.

"Would you guys just stop..." he said around a mouthful.

"Sorry," Sam half smiled cracking open a soda for him.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

"Sorry sweetie," she stroked the side of head then kissed his temple.

"Yeah well... s'alright..." he tossed the chicken breast into the container and grasped her hand looking at the tops of them one by one, "What'd you do? Get into a fight with a brick wall?" he asked making Sam chuckle.

"Something like that," she smiled.

"You look like hell, either of you get any sleep at all?" he asked.

"We'll sleep later, when we know we're all safe," Sam smirked.

"Was it my imagination or did one of you say something about Hendrickson being here?" he asked.

--

When dusk had given way to dark, Laura loaded the boys' gear, the medical supplies, the food and drinks into the trunk of the impala, all of them knowing full well that she was the least identifiable of the three of them. She backed the car to motel room door with a gesture from Sam at the window, and they helped Dean into the back seat as quickly as possible, securing him with a blanket and pillow for when he decided to crash.

"It's my car, least I should be in the front seat..." he grumbled.

"What so some curious ass wipe at a stoplight can report an unconscious man in the passenger seat of a 67 black four door impala? Think Dean, you're going to crash, just curl up in the back seat, leave the driving to Sam, it'll be a LOT less suspicious and you know it," she nodded.

"You're going to be right behind us right?" Sam asked pointedly from behind the wheel.

A wiry, hawkish looking man with sharp features and a thin dark comb-over strode toward them, his fingers digging deep into his pockets, apparently looking for something.

"I promise," she nodded closing the rear passenger door as the man passed by looking at the room numbers as he did so.

Sam nodded as she pulled her keys from her pocket and unlocked her car. She rolled her head on her neck watching him guide Metallicar to the edge of the driveway where he waited. His eyes flicked from Dean slumped in the back seat, out the rear window, then back to his big brother. A shiver of de ja vous played with his senses, all he could see was the older man's face half covered in blood, pale, barely conscious on that pivotal night that now seemed so far removed. _I never wanted to see him like that again... God can't we just please... start again? Do it differently? Please? _"Oh son of a bitch!" he cursed, throwing the car into reverse and skidding to a halt feet from Laura's front bumper.

"Sam! Go! Get out of here!" She hollered wiping frantically at her pepper sprayed eyes and running nose while the wiry man with the bad comb-over grasped her by the hair and slammed her head into the doorjamb.

--

"What? Sam? What is it?" Dean asked craning around in the back seat to look out the window. "Oh man... back Sam... go help her!" he groaned twisting further around to see the wiry man grasp her around the throat from behind.

"Damnit!" he cursed throwing the car into park just as she managed to turn within the man's grasp. Neither of them had seen her "fight" an actual assailant despite the occasional sparring they engaged in when they were all together, but they watched her palm strike the man's temple, knee him in the groin, then put him down with another punch. They nodded and breathed a sigh of relief, then watched her duck into the car, where she rooted around for a second before cuffing the man with his hands behind his back so she could load him into the back seat of her car. With that done, she nodded and waved Sam forward.

"I really don't wanna know why she has handcuffs..." Sam breathed shaking his head as Dean chuckled grinning hugely, "Dean, shut it..."

"D'ja miss me lover?" an alabaster face with garnet colored lips and blonde Shirley Temple curls beamed at him through the half open window with the mirror image of his own green eyes.

"Hohshit! Nuhooo!" he barked cranking the window up against her arm with its ruby talons as they reached in, claw-like for his face.

"Whoa...what the?" Sam punched the accelerator to the floor even as his brother screamed.

"Go SAM! Go!" and he watched her arm slide out of the window, one of the two inch long nails snapping as he forced it closed. "Turn around and run that bitch down!" Dean gasped out the order through his stuttering heartbeat.

"Was that her?! Was that what I saw?" Sam demanded.

Dean nodded breathlessly, his face waxy and pale in the backseat while he looked all around the car. "Where the hell'd she come from?" he breathed, "Where the hell'd she go?"

"What the hell is she Dean?" Sam asked glancing into the mirror where his brothers' eyes were fixed wide and fearful on the road ahead of them. In a split second he knew why. His feet slammed on the brake pedal even as Dean shouted.

"What the hell're you doing?! Run her down RUN that bitch over!"

But she was gone before the car stopped, "Where the hell'd she go!" Sam demanded breathlessly, part of him wondering what just happened, and part of him wondering if everyone else had as many people run in front of their car as he and Dean seemed to.

"Constance, Molly, now this bitch?" he breathed mashing his foot down on the gas again and tossing a gun into the back seat, "In case she shows up out of thin air like Constance did," he explained.

"Consecrated iron?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam nodded.

"I thought she was dead... nothing natural coulda survived that," Dean breathed hearing something he thought a side of beef might sound like if it was going through a wood chipper. _I watched that thing levitate, I watched those brackets pin her to the wall... _A flash of her forearm and the glimpse of her face came to mind, _It DID cut her up...the makeup can't hide it all, but how'd she heal so fast?_ He clutched the gun to his chest, and lost himself in thought unaware that he'd begun to rock.

--

tbc

Please R&R.

Thanks.

sifi


	4. Chapter 4

Twilight – chpt 4

by: sifi.

--

"Where'd she go? Was that her Sam?" Laura's voice came through the phone as soon as he answered it.

"I don't know. Yeah Dean says it was," he glanced into the rear view mirror at his brother and frowned at what he saw. _I've never seen him like this before, NEVER..._ "Dean? You okay? She didn't get you right?" he asked noting his emotionless countenance. _No fear, just blank_, Sam's frown deepened and a shiver shook him as he realized that his big brother, the one who'd always made the monsters go away, the one who always stood between him and harm, always ready with a slick come-back, was hugging the gun to his chest and rocking. "Dean!" he barked turning just a little in the front seat, but enough for the car's tires to grab the gravel shoulder startling him back onto the road.

"Crash my car and you're never driving again," Dean warned in monotone. He reached across the seat grabbing the pillow to himself and slid down onto his right side, slowly and with terrible effort drawing his knees up while he pulled the blanket tight to his chest along with the gun.

Sam brought the phone up to his ear, "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, how is he?"

"Not good, how's your passenger?"

"Starting to come around, you wanna find us some place where we can ask him a few questions in private?" she asked.

"Consider it done," he ground through clenched teeth as a moan creased his big brothers' features.

--

Special Agent Hendrickson frowned as he stepped from his car toward the cluster of police and two young women in the center of a circle of the curious milling, straining, hoping to catch sight or scent of blood. He'd seen it before, and he was sure to see it many more times before he died, it was part of the job he couldn't stand. These same vultures would come out and gawp at the carnage, but not a single one of them would lift a finger to stop it or help someone in need. _Sometimes I hate people._ He thought pushing his way through the throngs to the victims of yet another moment of Winchester insanity. _I knew that boy would never kill his own brother... but what's the point in making it look like he did? Trying to get Sam out from under my radar? What's the point Dean? What's goin' on in your head boy?_

"Agent Hendrickson, I'm Deputy Sheriff Morris," the early forties-ish man offered his hand then motioned to the two young girls clinging to each other at his side, "These are Aileen and Rachael Fairbanks, the daughters of the man they kidnapped," Morris said softly.

Hendrickson felt his brows furrow and his hackles rise. There was something strange about the older daughter, _she looks like a damn doll, and not in a good way... what the hell's wrong with her skin?_ He wondered noting lines and jagged rends of what could only be scar tissue. She was a mass of conflicting visuals, satin blonde banana curls bounced to her shoulders, a red velvet ribbon pinned to each side of her head, her full lips were painted the most garish red he'd ever seen and her face was heavily caked with the palest of makeup. The only color that was visible on her face aside from those obscenely colored lips was her luminous jade green eyes. His gaze quickly took in whatever else was visible, she wore a black t-shirt and jeans, and her arms, just as pale as her face were also criss-crossed with a lattice work of scar tissue culminating in two inch long talons of scarlet, one of which seemed to be broken down to the quick leaving a constantly morphing pattern of blood dripping to the ground.

The other girl, the young one couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen. She wore a brightly flowered sun dress and a pink sweater, and half of her also porcelain looking face was covered in the huge sunglasses of a cataract surgery patient. The kind his Grandma had worn, and simply kept wearing because they were free with the surgery.

_Not much of a witness there, she's blind... course maybe she heard something..._ "I'm Special Agent Hendrickson... I'm going to find your dad but I need you to tell me everything you possibly can about what you saw, or heard okay?" he asked.

The young girl wrapped her arms around her big sister, pressing her face to her side and began to sob, "They're gonna kill him! They're gonna kill my daddy! Aileen! They're gonna kill daddy!"

"T'sokay Raech," the older sister soothed in monotone, her arm moving to pat her younger sibling's back in a way that reminded him of a robot simply going through the motions.

The little girl's hand grasped his arm with snake-like speed, layers of sounds filled his head, words, phrases, instructions, hate, vengeance, reverence and a need to bring their father back to these little girls pierced him then was gone.

He looked from her hand on his into those odd sunglasses where he thought he might be able to see a hint of her eyes moving behind the opaque lenses, her mouth trembled and drops slid down her cheeks, "Please, find our daddy, he's all we've got..."

Special Agent Hendrickson swallowed hard around a lump in his throat, wondering how this headache had come upon him so suddenly, "I will sweetheart," he nodded.

"That mean lady's gonna kill my daddy, I can see it..." she hiccoughed tearfully.

Hendrickson felt his head snap up, his eyes piercing into those of the older sister who responded simply, "She's got 'the sight'."

_Of course she does, where the hell is Mulder when I need him?_ he cracked a humorless smile at his own joke and pulled out a pocket tape recorder.

"We're not gonna let that happen Rachael, _I'm_ not gonna let that happen, but I need your help okay? I need you to tell me exactly what you saw," he nodded while the local Sheriff's department reps began to disperse the onlookers.

--

Dean looked up, his expression incredulous as he watched his little brother meticulously squeeze his arm from the pit toward the wrist, applying slow even pressure that felt like a swarm of bees stinging as infection oozed from the myriad slices, tears and holes in the appendage. He gritted his teeth trying not to breathe too hard while he watched the man he'd raised work with pure focus. _He coulda done anything with his life... look at him. He coulda been anything and here he is stuck, just another target in a demonic duck-shoot. God Sam I'm sorry. I hope to God you can forgive me one day..._ he thought despondently as a series of bubbles of yellow, green and red ruptured out of the holes, bringing with it cottage cheese textured waste.

"Oh God that's gross!" he grunted as Sam's blue-greens flicked up and touched his jade greens.

"It's a lot better than it was," he said softly, the corner of his mouth curling in a small smile though as was always the case with the youngest Winchester, his pain for his brother shone bright in his eyes.

The light inside the impala was scanty but still enough for Dean to see where lines of ink were drawn on his skin, indicating a definite recession of the infection. His eyes followed the I.V. line to the antibiotic bag that dangled from the hangar peg and he shook his head, _man, I might wind up one lucky son of a bitch... _

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

Sam looked over his shoulder at the hunters' shack they were parked in front of, "Nevermind."

Dean's brows furrowed and he tilted his head to catch his brothers' eyes, "What Sam?"

Sam swallowed and focused on wiping away the exudate with the gauze pads in his hand, "I'm sorry... and thank you," he whispered.

Dean smiled, his good right arm reaching up to grasp Sam at the back of the neck. He pressed his forehead to Sam's for a second then ruffled his mop, "Thank you... bitch."

Sam shook his head, "Jerk," and grinned as the door to the shack flew open clattering against the wooden wall and Laura ran out to the far side where she doubled over throwing up violently.

Sam's eyes flicked to the gun in his big brothers' hand, "Stay here," he commanded then dashed to the door of the shack checking to see if their captive was adequately restrained of if they'd have another fight on their hands. The wiry man was seated, firmly bound to a chair in the center of a freshly painted pentagram on the ceiling.

From the car, while he worked to finish milking the infection out, squeezing as gently and firmly as possible over the broken radius inside his forearm, Dean watched his little brother dash to the door, peer inside, then walk around to the side of the shack. _There's something going on they're not telling me, _he realized as his girl stood up, leaning deeply on the wall of the structure, looking about to fall over any second, and his brother placed a hand onto her back. He watched her nod, straighten herself out and return to the shack proper while Sam moved slowly back to the car. Once she was inside, his little brother doubled-back, his mini-mag-lite in hand, it's beam shining on the ground for a moment before he shut it off and returned to the car.

"S'goin' on Sam?" Dean asked while he shut off the I.V. drip and unscrewed the line from the catheter hub in his arm, then capped that off. If something went wrong while they were questioning, 'Old Man Jenkins', as Dean was starting to think of him; he wouldn't be able to fight with the whole setup to worry about.

"Bad burger she thinks," Sam winced with a faint shrug, "You done?" he asked helping the elder hunter into his coat, then supporting him toward the shack making sure to keep Dean moving toward the door.

Once inside Laura drew them to a corner speaking quietly, "If he's possessed it's not by a standard demon,"

Their eyes flicked to the soaking wet man who simply sat, bound in the chair.

"Igigi?" Sam asked.

"I don't know, don't know how to tell."

"Did he say why he attacked you?" Dean asked then frowned, "Jeez you look like hell," he shook his head noting her waxy pallor and fingering the jagged tear over the goose-egg the door jamb had caused, "Sorry."

"S'alright," she smiled touching his cheek with one hand and squeezing Sam's forearm with the other as he half smiled apologetically for Dean's comment.

"No, he won't say anything," she shook her head as a wall of warm-fuzzy barreled through her, rocking her back on her heels and making her eyes swim, _I love you guys,_ she thought and bit her tongue to keep from saying it aloud and maybe giving their captor a weapon against them.

--

LAKEVIEW, OREGON.

"You get through to 'em?" Shep asked.

"Nope, out of the service area... I don't like the feel of this Shep," Tommy frowned.

"Did you get through to Bobby?" the elder man asked.

"Yeah, that's the only reason we're not already on the road, he talked to Sam this afternoon, Dean was stable but they were going to try and get him across state lines and into a hospital tonight,"

"They?" Shep asked sniffing the shirt he pulled off the back of his desk chair, then stuffing it into his duffel bag.

"Yeah, that girl Laura's with 'em," Tommy nodded.

"She was a nurse before Yellow Eyes got hold of her brother right?" Shep asked. He'd never met the girl, but Bobby thought pretty well of her.

Tommy shrugged, "I think so, so at least they've got someone with medical training with them. Bobby said he'd keep trying to get in touch with them then let us know exactly where they are."

"He say anything about what that demon said? Anything else that might've been unleashed?"

Tommy shook his head but sighed, his ice blue eyes drilling a hole in the floor.

"What?" Shep asked.

"Igigi," he said.

"Bless you..." the older man joked then sat across from his nephew, "Igigi?" then shook his head after Tommy nodded.

"They're ancient Shep, just like that son of a bitch said... and from what little Bobby's been able to find out about them so far... they feed on human vice and misery," Tommy sighed.

"Yeah well so do most demons... what's the catch youngun?" Shep asked cocking an eyebrow at the man he'd always think of as a boy.

"They're invisible to the naked eye, and from what Sam said, they EAT demons. Other than that we don't know a damned thing about them, what makes them vulnerable, how to kill them, how to hurt or trap them, nothing," Tommy frowned sipping on his bottle of root beer.

"Sam said they _eat_ demons? How...?"

"Apparently he's one of the few people who CAN see them, there's maybe a handful of folks who can," Tommy's voice was flat, his memory cast back an impossible twenty-three years to when he and Shep first met the Winchester men. He could still feel two-year old Sam in his arms sleeping soundly with his fist in his mouth while some B rated horror movie played on Son of Svengoolie as John and Shep headed off to this very cabin to find out what Buck Forester could tell them to help them find John's missing firstborn.

"Aww hell, kid needs that like a hole in the head... Tell me they know what kind of danger they're in?" Shep asked.

"They're not dumb Shep, they know."

"So? What?" Shep asked.

"You wanna drive or fly?" Tommy asked.

"We're hunters man, we drive, we can hit Bobby's on the way see if we can find out anything else."

Tommy rose and slung his duffel bag over his shoulder, "Let's go."

Locking up Buck Forester's legacy behind them, Shepard McGregor and Tommy Daykin pulled out onto the road and turned East.

--

"They're in a cabin of some sorts... rough hewn wood...they're hurting my daddy Mr. Hendrickson, they're hurting him, you have to stop them, you just have to..." the pleading in her voice simultaneously grating on his nerves and making his heart hurt for these two girls. _How the hell did they convince me to let them ride with me again?_ he wondered shaking his head, his eyes flicking to the rear view mirror where he caught a glimpse of the oldest sister sitting quietly. Her doll-like face remained blank and emotionless her eyes equally blank as if someone had pulled her batteries.

_The little one's in charge, I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch, taking their daddy away from them like this, it's just wrong... I'm gonna kill him, yeah... put a bullet right between those green eyes of his and leave him laying on the ground for doing this to these little girls. _He looked down at the smooth pale hand clutching his arm, skin on skin. There was something odd about her touch, her skin was cool, and yet where her hand lay, beneath the skin, he burned.

"Tell me again..." he started, "... what it is that you see?"

"My daddy, they're talking in the corner," she sniffled.

"Can you hear them honey?" Hendrickson asked feeling flames alongside his head, they seemed to flare every time he thought of the horror those twisted boys brought onto these helpless little girls. _Kids need their daddy... it's like those boys... if their father had been around a little more then maybe they wouldn't have turned out so screwed in the head themselves and now they're going to do the same thing to these kids... like HELL! No way am I gonna let that happen. I'll see those boys dead first. _

--

tbc.

Please R&R.

Thanks

sifi.


	5. Chapter 5

Twilight – chpt 5.

by: sifi.

--

"Y'know in all honesty... we don't have to ask you these questions Mr. Fairbanks, I know I certainly don't..." she tilted the corner of her mouth upward, her eyes were heavily bloodshot and flat, her skin was just this side of marble-white and it was clear to all of the men present that she was nearing the end of her patience.

She leaned forward, her fingers gripping his chin, her eye almost pressing against his while her lips tickled the side of his head, "I might just have to RIP it out of your head, and I honestly don't know what that'll do to you..." she shoved him back, her lips curled from her teeth while she paced in front of him, _it was too easy... every second of it. This is NOT right! So help me God if you do anything to hurt these men, you don't want to know what I could do,_ she threatened silently while those men she loved above life itself, sat tensely across the room, watching.

"See... I've been going through some changes lately..." she walked around him, her fingers moving over his shoulders, up his neck to the top of his head where she grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked backward until he gagged, "...and frankly I don't give a damn what happens to you," the faint motion of Sam leaning forward and Dean almost rising from his chair caught her attention but she continued, "I might even enjoy watching what could happen if I just..." she made a 'pluck'ing motion with her fingers and smiled darkly, "...pluck it right out of there...so, I'm going to ask you once again... Who... Is... the Dollfaced Bitch?"

His eyes trembled ever so faintly away from the wall he was determined to stare into oblivion and almost met hers. She didn't miss it.

"She means something to you..." Laura snarled clamping her fingers on either side of his chin again and turning his head toward her, _I'll kill her. I'll kill her in front of you. I'll make you scream for her pains, _"What? Is she your daughter? Lover? The mother of your children? Would you like to know what I'm going to do to her?" She pressed her cheek to his, once again her breath snaking into his ear, "Would you like to know what it feels like to have your skin peeled from your body layer by layer?" she asked, "Can you stay silent while I strip your daughter down to her bones?"

"That's enough!" Sam nearly leaped from his chair, rising with enough force for it to clatter against the wall. He strode to her, grasped her by the shoulders and half tossed her back toward where Dean sat, his face a mask of distaste and agony, "Sit down! It's NOT his fault!"

Laura turned, an unidentifiable expression on her face as she moved toward Sam. Dean's arm snaked out, his hand gripping her forearm as he held her back, "Let him handle it," he suggested softly.

Reluctantly she picked up Sam's chair and sat beside the elder hunter, a wall of hot anger surrounding her like a mantle, she leaned toward Dean, pressing her lips to his ear, "I got a bad feeling Dean, you guys gotta get outta here," a slight tilt brought her forehead to his temple.

He turned his head frowning against the heat rolling off her, "It'll be okay," he soothed with a quick rub of his head against hers before their attention turned completely back to Sam.

"I'm sorry Mr. Fairbanks...she's a little...stressed...," Sam said softly, "Look, we know your...daughter is it?" he asked then continued as the man's eyes flicked to his, "What's going on with her, it's not her fault. My brother and I, we want to help. If you tell me what happened... what happened to her, we can help you get her back," he breathed then knelt beside the chair, "Please help us help her, you MUST know, whoever she is now, it's not who she's supposed to be... we can help bring her back to you..." he offered in his best 'caring and sharing' voice. He even used the very same 'puppy eyes' that rarely failed against his own brother. With a rapid intake of breath Mr. Fairbanks swallowed hard, glancing over Dean, skipping quickly past Laura and finally looking back to Sam; the daddy inside wanting just one more chance to hold on to hope.

"Aileen... my daughter...the one that... that..." he swallowed hard while sweat ran down his face and neck, trickling beneath his collar, "that hurt... your brother...Oh God forgive me, please Lord have mercy..." he prayed in a rushed whisper, "About a year ago... something happened, dark clouds came, but... it was... it wasn't... _natural,_" he gasped not noticing the look that passed between the brothers, "My girl... my sweet little girl... you don't know what its' like to wake in the night to the sound of your child screaming... you hear about your heart leaping into your throat?" he asked Sam.

_Not that you'd believe it, but yeah... I'm pretty familiar with the feeling..._ he nodded.

"I thought... I don't know _what_ I thought really... but when I got there, my God...nothing any God of _mine_ could have created could do that to a child..." he shook his head, his tongue snaking out to lick his parched lips.

Sam nodded at Dean who nodded and tossed a bottle of water to him. Sam cracked it open and held it to the man's lips, letting him drink.

"Thank you..." he nodded, "The things it did to her... it was a cloud of black... but it was _alive_! I could feel it... there was... _evil_ there... and it was all over my baby... touching her... _filling_... her... with its obscenity. Raping her before my very eyes..." tears overflowed with the memory of his sweet sixteen year old girl, stripped naked, violated by an untouchable, amorphous evil. "...and I couldn't stop it... I couldn't do a damned thing... so you tell me Mr. Winchester... what kind of a God visits such a gross transgression on a CHILD!" he cried trying to tuck his face into his shoulder while tears poured from him.

Sam cast a glance over his shoulder to his brother, noting the pained look on both his and Laura's faces as well as their clasped hands. _Damn man, she actually had me a little nervous..._ Laura's eyes grasped his and she shook her head mouthing the words, 'there's more,' then shaking her head before blanking her expression just in case the man should turn his head.

Sam nodded then quickly returned his focus to their captive, "I'm sorry Mr. Fairbanks, I'm sorry about your daughter... I have to ask you... the thing that... _hurt _her, did it leave when it was... done?" he asked feeling dirty for having to do so.

The man before him shook his head, "No...it became one with her."

Dean and Sam met eyes once more, breathing a sigh of relief, each of them thinking, _Exorcism,_ before Sam nodded, "The good news, is we can fix that but now I need you to tell me the rest."

--

"No!" Rachel breathed a harsh whisper into the night, her fingernails digging into the flesh of Special Agent Hendrickson's forearm, _Shut it old man or so help me you'll feel a thousand deaths..._

"What's that matter Rachel?" he asked feeling slightly fuzzy in the head. She was leading him surely to her father, he believed that. He KNEW she was bringing him to her father, and those damnable Winchester boys. He was "This" close to seizing his quarry and closing this case! But he knew those boys, he knew their history, he knew they'd escaped from a maximum security prison somehow, _with the help of that damned ass hole guard is how!_ but without knowing exactly _how_ they'd arranged it all...

"Daddy..." she whispered.

In the rear view mirror Aileen's eyes flicked to the back of her little sisters' head before the faintest of smiles touched her lips and the rest of her face went blank again.

"What do you see sweetheart?" he asked.

"They're killing him..." she whispered aghast as tears rolled once more down her cheeks from under the glasses. _Not that you'll know any difference... mine soon... all three of them... _her lips stretched to the side with a slight upward tilt, it was nothing that could be considered a smile, not really.

--

"My youngest, Rachel, named for Joseph's mother..." he gasped and coughed while another layer of sweat broke over him, "She... whatever's in her...it's..." he tilted his head to the side _Shut up now and I may yet spare your life!_ her warning came slashing through his mind like the claws of some feral beast. His breath sputtered in short gasps as blood ran down his face from his nose and eyes, "...it's PURE evil... her soul is no more..." his fingers reached out from his bindings, trying to reach Sam, "...she is gone..." blood poured copiously and his body began to quake, "... it's in tatters... she wants..." _You pathetic insect... you could have survived the coming... _he choked, a bubble of red bursting from his mouth. His eyes grew wide, the whites turning red, "...what you've got... all three of you... power..." he gasped, _I shall suffer no fools to live_, the thing that resided in his youngest daughters shell spoke the last words he would hear.

"Mr. Fairbanks?!" Sam grasped him by the chin meeting eyes with Laura who tossed him the key to the handcuffs and held the man behind the head while his teeth snapped viciously over his tongue, biting off bits and pieces as he convulsed.

_Damnit! It's the kid, it's the young one... son of a bitch! She USED HIM! _"This isn't natural!" Laura ground out between clenched teeth as they lifted the man onto the floor and laid him out flat. She crushed the water bottle under her knee then stuck it between his teeth.

"Dean call 911!" Sam urged.

"Don't you dare!" Laura argued looking between the brothers, her face a mask of fury, "She's doing this!" she rose, "You guys need to get the hell out of here NOW!" she urged racing to Dean to help him to his feet while he and Sam exchanged dumbfounded looks.

"Son of a bitch!" she yelled then snarled, "We've been tracked!" watching them make the connection as the sound of tires on woody detritus came through the cabin walls, "He set us up!"

--

"Left! Turn left here!" her arm swooped across his face, her finger pointing without error to a small overgrown path that looked as if it had once been a driveway of sorts. He cranked the wheel hard, the car stuttering over the curb, tossing them violently inside until the tires gripped earth and headlights cleaved the darkness.

"I gotta call for backup..." he reached for his phone, a protest dying on his lips as the little girl snaked it from his hand, her fist closing over it, snapping the plastic at the hinge.

"You don't need backup, you can handle this all by yourself... those boys are no match for you," her voice spoke in lullaby melody, her touch a cool balm to the fiery hatred that burned within him, inflamed with every word she spoke. "You will subdue them, and they will be mine...You will see to it," she instructed.

"Yeah," he nodded, _who better to mete out justice than the one's who've suffered right? Eye for an Eye? And a die for a die...God I LOVE Michelle Pfeiffer... she was so freakin' hot in that damned patent leather... mmm_, "I can do that," he smiled, his fingers smoothing the satiny hair of the little girl beside him.

--

Sam handed his brother out the window to Laura who guided him to earth and kept him steady then crouched low moving quietly around the cabin toward the front, the sound of footsteps almost blaring in the night. Everything else was still and silent as if the world was waiting, holding its breath to see what would happen in the next couple minutes.

Even against the glare of the headlights of Hendrickson's car they could see the outline of the eldest daughter sitting in the back seat, unmoving, though undoubtedly watching.

"You guys go..." she nodded, "I'll be right behind," then clinging to shadows she moved to the vehicle's front drivers' side tire sliding her knife into the rubber near the stem. From inside the car a piercing scream shattered the air as Metallicar's glass pack chop roared to life drawing both Hendrickson and the youngest daughter from the shack.

Hendrickson's gun was drawn as he dashed toward the receding taillights, took stance and threw the safety just before Laura's hand came over his, her thumb flicking the safety back on, "It's too late, they're gone, you missed them..." she pushed feeling resistance within him, "You're being used Agent Hendrickson..." she pushed again and frowned, the only other times she had difficulty influencing people were either when they were already exposed to 'other-worldly' elements or those few folks who had some kind of metal in their head.

"Those men are violent and dangerous!" he argued as the youngest Fairbanks daughter meandered to his side and sipped her hand into his, "You're the one who's being used! They'll turn on you..."

"Is it customary to bring a child with you in an attempt to apprehend 'violent and dangerous' criminals?" she asked, "You're so beyond regs already, don't let yourself be used as a pawn. You DON'T know what's going on here," her teeth clenched against a hot furious force that was trying to surround her, pressing in on all sides. Her body began to shake and her thoughts worked to slither away but she held them fast.

Laura pointed at Hendrickson and divided her concentration in half, "Freeze!" she told him and felt him try to move unsuccessfully. She turned her full focus on the young girl, her belly crawling in a way she hadn't felt in a long time, but not so long ago that she'd forgotten it. The last time she'd felt it was in a universe she'd failed to save.

"What are you?" she asked feeling energy moving toward and through her, snaking into and around her through the ground. Cool moist breezes stirred, batting away the heat that came from the girl.

"Shoot her!" she ordered Hendrickson who struggled to raise his gun. Beads of sweat became rivulets down his face.

_She didn't do anything, I HAVE to shoot her. No! Apprehend! Take her into custody obstructing justice... what the hell did she do to me? I have to shoot her! I have to..._ the voices of his reason and manipulated passions at war.

"You don't belong here!" Laura stepped toward the child.

"I was here before this world took its first breath," a voice that trembled the atoms wrapped around the whirlwind of energy that surrounded the older woman, and was shredded in the process.

"You don't belong here, you're going to throw this world out of balance," she struggled to breathe against the energies coursing around and through her.

At this the thing inside the little girl laughed, her hands clutching her belly as she shook her head back and forth, "No I'm not... I'm gonna destroy it," it said.

--

"Sam STOP! You gotta go back! We can't leave her there!" Dean twisted and turned in the front seat of the impala as his little brother continued stoically on their course spitting out distance behind them while Laura ran interference.

"We're not going back so sit back and put on your damned seat belt," Sam instructed once more checking the rear view mirror, hoping to see the shape of her headlights coming up behind them.

"Damnit Sam! You turn this car around right now or so help me..." Dean started to threaten, "We don't leave our friends behind!"

"This time we do Dean," Sam corrected softly, his jaw set, his eyes hard and focused forward, _She'll follow, she'll be right behind us in no time, the phone'll ring, she'll say she gave 'em the slip and she'll meet us there. Come on Laura, you can handle this, we know you can._

"I know you don't like the girl Sam but we can't just leave her... if Hendrickson's under some kind of supernatural influence with that demon kid, he could _kill _her!" Dean persisted.

"I know," Sam nodded, _and who says I don't like the woman? She loves you, how can I help but love her?_

"Damnit Sammy! You turn this car around right now..." he began to threaten again.

"It's not gonna happen Dean. You always said I should learn to just follow orders once in a while. This order I can follow without question," he breathed.

"What did she tell you to do Sam?" Dean asked feeling his tummy doing flips.

"Nothing I wouldn't have done anyway," Sam half shrugged.

"Which is _what _specifically?" he pressed through gritted teeth.

"Protect you at all cost," Sam confirmed softly, then as he knew would happen, Dean reached with his good right arm toward his little brother. Sam clenched his teeth together and held his breath while his right hand reached out, grasping his big brother's left forearm and squeezing the area of the broken radius, "Don't make me pull over and knock you out Dean," he warned as his big brother yelped in pain and using his good right, punched him in the shoulder.

"You little son of a bitch!" Dean snarled, though to his consternation Sam's mouth curled up at the edges in a smirk.

"What you thought I wasn't paying attention all these years?" he asked.

"I'll just leave once you're asleep," Dean shook his head.

"Fine, either way by the time you get back to the cabin there won't be anyone there. Either she'll be on the road coming to us, or she'll be with Hendrickson sitting in the local Sheriff's lockup," Sam shrugged, "In which case they can only keep her for forty eight hours since our presence there can't be verified," he explained hoping his brother was still too hurt, or befuddled to recognize the last possibility.

"Unless she can't break Hendrickson free of that freaky little bitch's spell and she winds up in the same basement level of hell where Psycho Barbie had her fun with me! Do you KNOW what you might have just left her IN for!?" Dean hollered angrily.

_I should've known better,_ Sam's eyes finally flicked to the passenger seat and he breathed deep, "There's something you should probably know about..."

--

"Y'know I knew you were gonna say something like that... You know you won't be allowed to do that don't you?" Laura asked watching the creature before her raise the child's hand, it drew a finger toward the vortex of life energy surrounding her. The silent reaction was at odds with what was expected as the forefinger of the child's body made contact, a streak of white crackling while flesh singed, smoked and fell away from the rest of the appendage leaving a sealed ridge at the top of the palm where the digit used to be.

"You think you can stop me? No matter what you command, it's not enough," it shook the child's head, "But it will definitely give me quite the upper hand once I get hold of the chosen one and his champion."

"Yeah that's the part I've got some issue with... it's not gonna happen," Laura shook her head as a metallic thunder split the night and three sets of eyes turned to look at the eldest Fairbanks daughter who stood with Special Agent Hendrickson's gun, smoking in her hands. The night fell preternaturally silent save for the sound of vital fluid splattering to the ground.

--

tbc.

Please R&R.

Thanks,

sifi.


	6. Chapter 6

Twilight – chpt 6.

by: sifi

--

"Put her in the Champion's cell and soften her up. Do NOT kill her, and do NOT allow her to escape do you understand?" the creature inside Rachel asked.

_What the hell have I done?_ Hendrickson thought, every fiber of his being shivering at this evening's events, _I just have to play along until the time is right. I can't let that child know I'm not under her control anymore. How do the Winchesters fit into all this? Are they partnered up? Was it something gone wrong that made 'em take the dad or what? None of this makes sense. I gotta do this right, I gotta play along till the time is right, how will I know...? _he nodded within himself, _Yeah, I'll know._

In the back seat of her car blood ran simultaneously from Laura's nose as well as the bullet hole through her abdomen, _Just play it cool Hendrickson, don't let the kid know you're not under her control anymore. Man I'm NEVER gonna get all the blood stains out of the upholstery, if I survive. I'm not as strong as Dean. I hope to hell that worked, please Hendrickson, please be able to play along._

"I understand," Aileen nodded sliding into the drivers' seat without so much as a glance at Laura who lay with her eyes closed, a grimace against the pain in her side and ankle, where Rachel had slammed the car door against the joint, trying to make itself vocal.

The younger girl climbed into the back seat atop her sister's newest play-toy, her bony knees digging into the woman's thighs, her left hand pressing against her breastbone while the right raised the sunglasses, the eyeless sockets peering into Laura's face.

"By the time she gets done with you, you'll beg me to take your power and let you die, and when I am done with you, I will do the same to the Chosen one and his Champion," her beguiling smile spread wide as her right hand twisted and grated its way into the bullet hole in the woman's side. Her finger nails tore through the bleeding inflamed flesh, curling around whatever she could grasp on the inside and trying very hard to pull it to the outside until Laura couldn't hold back any longer, and the scream that burst forth took her consciousness away.

--

"Alright, thanks Bobby," Tommy ended the call and looked at his uncle's tense expression while the miles spun out behind them, "The boys are safe, for the time being," he nodded, "They just crossed over into Ohio."

"So what's the scowl for youngun?" Shep asked.

"The girl, she ran some interference to let the boys get away. She hasn't caught up to 'em yet," he shook his head, "Dean's fighting Sam to go back and get her."

"Did you get their new numbers?" Shep asked.

"Yeah, well Sam's. Dean's phone got busted all to hell when those folks took him," Tommy nodded.

"Dial up Sammy then," Shep scowled tersely.

No sooner did he press his nephew's phone to his ear than he heard Sam's voice on the other line, "Laura?"

"Still haven't heard from her huh?" Shep asked.

"No," came the youngest Winchester's quick reply.

"Put that fool brother of yours on the line boy," he instructed then heard Sam's voice, "Its Shep."

"S'up Shep?" Dean asked, his frown coming through loud and clear through the phone line.

"Tommy 'n I are on our way to you. You're to get your mangy carcass into a hospital and get a clean bill of health then wait for us to get there, do you understand me boy? Once we get there we'll figure out what to do about your friend, IF there's anything that can be done," he instructed hoping that even with John gone the boys conditioning would win out.

"We're headed to a hospital right now," Dean grunted, "Other than that I won't make any guarantees, you know what a pig headed bastard Sam can be. Do me a favor though, Sam'll give you the location where we separated. Go there. See what you can sniff out, you do that for me and I'll consider not leaving sasquatch locked up in the trunk while I head back to find out for myself..." Dean tried to bargain.

Once their old friend agreed to the eldest Winchester's terms he handed the phone to Tommy, while Dean handed Sam's back, "He's putting Tommy on," Dean explained.

--

Hendrickson felt his whole body clench with the sound of the woman's scream that tore through the night. _Oh my God... I gotta put a stop to it! I can't let... no, I have to see this through to the end, I have to find out what's going on... _when the scream abruptly ceased he realized that its absence was worse. It took everything he had to control the shiver as the young one, Rachel slid into the passenger seat beside him and strapped herself in.

She took a moment to turn her face in several directions and sighed with a faint smile, "Ahhh I can see them again, West toward Ohio," she nodded.

"What about Aileen?" he asked nonchalantly.

"She's going to keep the woman safe until we return. The three of them will play quite nicely off one another," she nodded as Hendrickson pulled the car out onto the road.

"Who is she? Do you know?" he asked.

"She's a nuisance who escaped me once. She won't do it again, now let's go get those boys," she smiled.

"Let's do it," he smiled against the tightening of his throat and the hot streak of bile that stung the back of his tongue, _this is... whole worlds of wrong, _he told himself as memories from long ago danced their way to the front of his mind, a woman he knew in a white dress, her body moving in ways that harkened to tribal dance-tales on the African plain while steel drums, bongo's, rasps and even simple sticks pounded out the rhythm that guided her, that opened her to the spirit world on everything from drums to dumpsters to the very street. The way was blocked with celebrants and participants in the ritual, everyone was one or the other, their voices lifted high or slung low in a cacophonous harmony of words, sounds, wailing, grunting and keening that made sense to something ancient inside him. Something that in this modern world he'd grown into, was sleeping.

He could feel his hand damp with sweat, clutching at his Aunt Lettie's dress, his eyes wide and scared, drawn to a panicking ochre-red rooster held aloft by the feet, its wings spread, its noise lost in the din. The vessel danced her way to the half naked, sweat streaked man holding the fowl, and it appeared she began to seize, bending at the waist in a way that disregarded the heavy, compelling beat. Her mouth dropped open and from deep inside a 12 inch dagger of silver was drawn from her throat. With a single deft slash upward the breast of the cock spread open spilling its entrails.

That was when seven year old Victor Hendrickson turned away pressing his face into Aunt Lettie's thick hot thigh where her dress caught his tears of fright. It seemed moments later that they were all walking back to her apartment as if none of it had ever happened, and by morning the little boy that would become a Special Agent for the United States Federal Bureau of Investigation had convinced himself that it hadn't.

--

"What kind of a demon are you? You're gonna let yourself be used, manipulated and controlled by some ancient wannabe badass that got shifted to a whole other _universe_ and had to take over a thirteen year old kid to get its bidding done?" Laura asked, trying to keep her focus from the stabbing pains that came with every breath as she was dragged through some kind of a storage house toward a case of stone stairs that led down.

Places she was dragged past were smeared brown with streaks and splotches, _Oh God... is that Dean's blood?_ There were areas on the walls where it was obvious he'd had to drag himself along and her more than vivid imagination went wild imagining his every moment of anguish, how alone and abandoned he must've felt. She could hear his mind screaming out to Sam, _"I'll come back for you Sammy... stone by stone... I swear... but I can't do it alone... need help..."_ the same shockwave of torment and self loathing that had jetted into her mind when she'd touched him in the back of the impala, before she'd influenced his mind quiet, giving his body the chance to heal, _I should've dipped right then and there... there would have been plenty of time to get to the motel before he manifested... damnit! I was scared though... I was scared of hurting him... son of a bitch... I'm useless if I can't do what it's in my nature to do... _a soft cry slid from her throat while hot prickles poked at the corners of her eyes.

Hard edges gouged, cracked and wrenched her body as she was tossed head over feet down the retractable stairs that introduced her to the little bit of hell the man she'd kill for had inhabited. Stars cris-crossed through her vision and though she couldn't be sure if the damage was permanent, or if in the end she'd be grateful for it or not, she completely lost feeling below the waist.

"Leave it..." she gasped coughing as the doll-faced bitch skipped down the stairs, her eyes falling to the far corner where her table, clippers and the rest of the coil of barbed wire lay waiting, "... to some low level demon wannabe to let some ancient shit-heads take their world away... whatever's coming is between us... not those posers..." she groaned though black cotton edges moved quickly over her vision, but not so quickly that she missed the bitch clip and arms length of the wire, then flip her over and remove the handcuffs before winding the wire around her wrists heedless of the screams, curses and obscenities that rolled out of the emissary's mouth.

With her hands protected by heavy gloves, Aileen dragged Laura to the rear of the oubliette by the wire that now bound her wrists together.

Somewhere along the way, the emissary of Cernunnos lost consciousness again.

--

"...and how did you say this happened again? Uh, exactly?" Dr. Elliot Blumenthal scratched his shiny sunburned pate while frowning.

"I got jumped, and held captive in an underground pit by a psychotic blonde doll-faced bitch who got her yah yah's by driving four inch nails through parts of my personage before she broke out a barbed wire cat-o-nine tails and tried to rip my skin off with it," he noticed the color drain out of Sam's face and turned to him, "Dude... you don't know how scared shitless I was she was gonna start playing catheter games with those nails..." he watched horror take over the younger hunters' expression just before he bent over wincing in imagined empathy. "Yeah, that's what I'm sayin'," Dean nodded.

The words had leaped out of the older brother's mouth, their pace and his delivery a dead giveaway to Sam, _he was scared... I'm sorry Dean, I shouldn't have waited so long to look for you. I should have known something was wrong sooner... man I'm sorry._

"Uh, Mr. Fogerty don't you think you should file a police report?" the doctor asked.

"S'all under control, in fact the FBI's already involved, agent in charge is a guy named Hendrickson, I just need to get some x-rays, and find out if the infection got into the bone is all," he tried to rush the doctor along. He shifted on the exam table, the paper unable to keep the cold from permeating his boxers while he kicked his feet back and forth like a kid.

"Alright, just lemme take a look here..." the doctor untied the jonnie and blanched at the sight that met his eyes. The young mans' torso was streaked with deep purple welts, and possibly more than a hundred jagged tears that had been carefully sutured.

Old habits died hard with Dean Winchester and as much as he would have loved to have Sam help him back into his clothes and get back on the road to West Virginia to try and find Laura, he still needed, to this day to set a good example for his little brother, and so suffered himself to be examined no matter how vulnerable it left him feeling.

"Dear Lord in Heaven..." Dr. Blumenthal breathed peering closely at several rends then turning his attention to the still black bruise on Dean's right thigh, "What happened here?" he asked.

"Hit me with a flail... coulda been worse, coulda been a spiked one instead of studded, come to think of it I'm surprised it wasn't spiked... 'course she probably wouldn't have been able to control the damage so much... knocked my leg right out from under me... I'm pretty sure that's when I lost consciousness," he nodded feeling his breath coming short.

_He hopped down the front stairs of the library tilting his face to the warm sunshine with a loose easy grin on his lips then stopped in his tracks as his hackles stood on end. In the span of a heartbeat he knew what was wrong, there was no birdsong, no breezes, no cars moving or children playing, despite the fact that it was mid day on a main street, 'it's like a set on a soundstage, what the hell?' he thought before his body lit on fire, every muscle pulling taut and out of his control as he fell to the ground. _

_He strained to reach for his gun as strange looking girl strode toward him in black jeans, t-shirt, and combat boots; her blonde hair in banana curls and tied with red ribbons, her lips painted the same color red. She tilted her head, her eyes were the same color as his he noticed, then she stepped on his wrist and took her time disarming him. She took his gun, his knife, his cell phone, his flask of holy water, and even worse, his flask of whiskey. With his weapons gone he found the fiery pressure holding him released. She stepped back watching him push up to his feet then whip-kicked him in the head, sending him back down. _

_His vision doubled as he pushed to his feet a second time, but he could see her digging into a bag. _

"_Who are you? What do you want?" he asked wondering if Meg had found someone else and just wanted to beat the crap out of him for helping Sam rid himself of her. _

_Those full red lips he would certainly have found kissable under any other circumstances, tilted upward at one side as his eyes opened wide in disbelief when she revealed the flail, wielding it almost expertly, the ball moving in either circles or figure eights as she pressed forward. _

"_What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" he asked literally unable to cut and run, the mere thought sending shooting pain through his head like a railroad spike. She came forward, he dodged; she swung, he evaded; he turned, she made a solid connection, the force of the blow sweeping his leg out from under him, blinding him and stealing the breath from his lungs. He lay on the ground gagging, unable to draw a breath until after darkness descended._

"And here?" the doctor asked noting the slightly pink and raised hole in his left thigh.

Dean closed his eyes wincing, feeling his heart begin to pound in his chest. His fingers curled around the lip of the table and a sweat started to emerge over him, _Okay, okay that's enough, no more, please, stop asking me to remember, stop asking me questions, I don't wanna think about it... I'm sorry Sam, I can't do this... just, I gotta get my clothes back on, we gotta get out of here..._ fuzzy sparkly dots moved out onto the dance floor of his vision while his throat locked up.

The next thing he knew, Sam was at his side pulling the jonnie back up over his shoulders, "Another nail," the youngest Winchester answered softly. "Can I help him get dressed now? Please?"

"Sure, but see here's the thing... he's already had some rudimentary care, all the signs of infection are going down..." he pointed to the IV hook-up still in Dean's right hand, "...someone started getting antibiotics into him quickly, which is good... but... there's a couple problems. If the radius is broken and requires surgery, we can biopsy the bone at the same time, but bones are highly vascular, IF infection has set into it, he could lose the arm entirely..." he warned.

"But the infection's gone down so much, I mean his arm is almost normal color again... you didn't see it yesterday, it was almost black, but he's come so far already..." Sam's voice seemed to plead.

A light flickered on inside Dean as he turned his head and looked at his little brother, wondering.

"I'm aware it's a possibility," Dean nodded.

Dr. Blumenthal nodded, "Let's just take it one step at a time shall we son?" he smiled gently, "I'll go order those x-rays, someone will come and get you in a few minutes," he nodded again then dropped his hand onto Sam's shoulder, "Don't you worry young man, we'll do everything we can to help your brother," then turned and left the two men in the exam room.

"Huh..." Dean huffed once the door was closed.

"What?" Sam asked.

"We finally ran across someone who doesn't think we're a couple," he smiled as Sam shook his head then helped him get into his jeans.

"Sam?"

"Hmm?" he grunted turning Dean's shirt right side in again before holding it straight for him to slide on.

"It wasn't any damned bad burger makin' her puke was it? I mean, she was barfing back in the motel room while you were squeezing out my arm yesterday morning... and you said something about blood on her shirt when she came out the bathroom... and this IS really really quick to be getting back to normal color...so I need you to get talkin' and tell me the rest of what you two cooked up," he suggested softly while pulling the flannel on.

_Damnit Dean!_ Sam cursed inside then shook his head meeting his big brothers' eyes, "Can we get through this first?"

"Sam, please."

"Damnit Dean..." Sam shook his head, his eyes starting to water in response to the open plea on his big brothers' face, shining through his eyes, _Oh hell I didn't like the idea of hiding it from him anyway._ Sam scowled then hopped up onto the exam table beside the only person that really mattered to him, and began to tell him what he knew.

--

tbc.

please R&R

Thanks.

sifi


	7. Chapter 7

Twilight – chpt 7

by: sifi

--

"I can't believe you agreed to that Sam! What the hell were you thinking?" Dean shook his head while he let his little brother wheel him down to X-Ray, following the kid from transport.

"What was I supposed to do Dean? She's going to do whatever she feels is right no matter WHAT either of us says..." _guess it's probably good I didn't tell you that OTHER thing..._ "...and this whole thing... it's a LOT bigger than just the three of us. If everything we've all been seeing and uncovering over the last fourteen, fifteen months... ever since that thing used me to tear open a doorway... " he sighed frowning deeply wondering how it had all managed to come to this. _Would all this still have happened if it hadn't been ME that yellow-eyes chose? Would it have happened if someone else...well someone else did win his little contest,_ he turned his gaze to his big brother.

"What?" Dean asked knowing that look.

"Kobyashi Maru, Dean..." he watched his brother frown in thought for half a second before his eyes popped wide open and his jaw nearly dropped.

"Sam... did you... did you just... WOW... I am impressed! An actual movie reference, and a Classic at that!"

Sam shrugged and almost blushed.

"Do you know what movie it was Sam? Come on little brother make me proud..." Dean egged him on.

Sam rolled his eyes, "Wrath of Kahn... the fact is we cheated Dean... we changed the rules... every action has consequences and I gotta wonder if any of this would have happened if we hadn't..."

"No!" Dean grabbed the wheel with his right arm and put his feet out grimacing at the pressure against his left heel as he stopped their progress in the middle of the hallway, then turned to look at his brother, "No, don't you believe that for one second, that whole cult thing, none of it was YOUR fault. Those freaks started the whole shebang by opening the gateway in the first place, and if you wanna get technical about it Jeremy was seeing the Igigi before we ever heard of 'em! We're the best hope there is to stop this before that son of a bitchin' thing tears our universe apart!"

He didn't realize it but several people in the hallway had stopped, including the kid from patient transport, and were listening to them openly curious about the conversation. A single look from Sam and he sat back in the chair scanning the hallway and scowled, "What? I'm delirious with pain...ow... see?"

Sam smirked shaking his head then motioned for the boy to continue leading them to X-Ray.

"Besides, neither of us knew it could happen so soon... the plan was to get you taken care of then for her to go back and see what she could find out, keeping us as far from the action as possible, but still close enough to help if it came down to it," Sam sighed.

"Do Tommy and Shep know about this plan of yours?" Dean asked.

"No... and I wish to hell she'd followed right behind us Dean, I really do, approach them on OUR terms not theirs... we can only hope that she's in Hendrickson's hands man, cause I don't want to think about ANYONE else going through what you must've," Sam shook his head and stopped outside the x-ray room then stepped around to the front of the chair, "But you gotta understand something, we both have one goal Dean, just ONE objective right now, and that's you. Y_our _health, and your safety and if you do something stupid then she'll have put herself in jeopardy for nothing, and I know you wouldn't do that you understand what I'm saying?"

The looks that crossed their faces, quiet, gentle pleading from Sam, and helpless pain from Dean said more to the other than any words could have. Neither of them was happy with the situation but both of them were smart enough to realize they had little choice for the moment.

"Mr. Fogerty?" the tech smiled wheeling Dean into the room, "So we're doing a left forearm and elbow and a right femur?" she asked.

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance before Dean nodded, "Yep."

"Let's do the femur first, hop up on the table and drop your drawers, then lay on your back," she instructed handing a jonnie to Sam, "Oh and leave the underwear on please," then dashed behind the control console while Sam helped his brother up.

"Story of my life...everyone wants me out of my pants..." Dean grunted quietly.

--

"Sam said they're prepping him for surgery, he said they'd probably be back on the road to the motel in about two to three hours," Tommy slid his phone into his pocket just as the co-pilot asked that all electronic devices be turned off until they arrived at the gate.

"That quick for surgery?" Shep asked.

"It's a biopsy of the bone, once they have the results they'll know whether or not he has to go in for real surgery," the younger man explained.

"Oh. Man I feel terrible that we wasted half a day on the road," Shep groaned.

"It wasn't a waste Shep, I don't know what the boys have about these creatures but we sure as hell needed the information Bobby gave us, IF that's what's behind what happened to Dean, and behind the fear we've been seeing in the demons lately."

Shep leaned close, "Yeah but Bobby STILL doesn't know how to kill these things... they feed on demons, they feed on us... if we lose this war our entire species is gonna go out with a whimper, not a bang little man," he whispered urgently.

"I know, but d'you really think we're desperate enough to start teaming up with demons? I mean come on Shep! They don't trust us, we don't trust them... course, we do know more about how they're bound to some of their rules and all... but man it _feels _so stinking _wrong!_"

"Yeah it does," the older hunter nodded watching the ground approach with unnerving speed, "But not as wrong as that boy being hunted by the FBI," Shep whispered, "Or Sam being targeted by other hunters of all people. Just remember Hendrickson may be under the kids' influence, if we run across him, don't shoot unless you absolutely _have_ to."

"Shep I'm not a kid, you think they made the right choice telling the doc everything?" he asked as the plane came to a stop and the passengers began to throw off their seat belts and collect their carry-on bags.

"Yeah well until they know for sure Hendrickson's acting on his own, it was kinda the only thing they could do, I mean injuries like that..." Shep shook his head.

"You think they were really that bad? I mean it doesn't seem right he's almost up and about just a day after Sam thought he was gonna give up the ghost, not that I wanna see the kid hurting or dead, but..."

"It's the girl, Bobby told me, she's got a gift, and Sam pretty much confirmed it," he shrugged making sure that everyone behind them had already gone.

"Well, with all the bad luck those boys've had over the last few years, I want to believe Bobby..."

"Well youngun, let's just reserve judgment until we get a chance to spike her drink with a Singer Special, then we'll decide," the elder hunter suggested as Tommy nodded his agreement and they exited the plane.

--

"So, did you _know _yellow eyes?" Laura asked between gasps as the tension changed back and forth on the run of barbed wire that had been pulled through the bullet hole in her side, across the cell, and was being connected to the chain that held the counter balance to the retractable stairs that led into the room. She could taste blood from all the clamping she'd done on her tongue while the demon inside the child threaded the coil through her. More than half of the length of the steel was covered in blood and flesh and Laura said a silent prayer of thanks that despite what she'd thought, her actual abdominal cavity had not been breeched. The bullet and its corresponding hole had gone straight through muscle and fat.

"Come on! Whatever the hell kind of demon you are, you can't want these sons of bitches to take over the world that you all have been waiting for!" she half hollered trying to rein her fury in while she tested the strength of the brackets that held her to the wall. With a braced bend of her arm she could feel the unmistakable vibration of metal on cement and wondered, _did she do that on purpose or is it just that I'm not...quite...the way I used to be? I'm pretty sure I could pull these right out of the wall_. As the brackets were being hammered in Laura realized she could feel the pressure around her ankles and thanked God, at least for the time being, that she wasn't permanently damaged, yet.

The demon using Aileen Fairbanks turned from the counterweight chain and gave a sharp tug against the wire catching Laura off guard. She grinned slowly as her captive's eyes rolled and she swallowed the pain.

"Now," she bent, rooting around in a chest in the far corner, "Oooh yeah, I like this," she smiled nodding then strolled back across the room toward her newest play toy, "where to start?" she hmm'd pulling the trigger on the bar-b-que grill lighter, releasing its deceptively gentle looking yellow flame.

"Aww come ON!" Laura whimpered and tried to blow the flame out, but the demon kept it just out of reach. "You wanna know where to start? Start with opening up your big dumb ears and listening to me! Those things are going to tear our entire world apart! Whatever hold that... that... THING has on you, you have to break it!" Laura pleaded gritting her teeth as the skin on the underside of her left arm started to prickle, then stopped, then started again while the demon played.

"That _thing _as you call him, already has more power than any other in this realm, and every moment here, his power grows," the demon spoke, its eyes black as night as it stood before her this time holding the flame still, watching her skin turn red, then quickly begin to blister.

_Holy crap that hurts, name, maybe it has a name..._ "PLEASE STOP!" she cried and tried to force her thoughts away from the pain, away from the sick sweat that broke over her while her arm began to quake against the wall, _Come on bitch! Give me something I can use! _"That's NOT true and you know it!"

"It doesn't matter what you think, where he goes so follows death, it's what he does," it released the trigger on the lighter.

"I bet you don't have any real clue do you?" Laura panted, "You're just a low level hell spawn, these creatures were kicked out of our realm for a reason... but you're like a spoiled child trying to pick the winning team based on promises of power it never plans to grant! In the end it and its army will destroy even _your_ kind! They EAT your kind don't you get it? You and every demon out there are nothing more than a post war banquet for these bastards!" she groaned through clenched teeth, her hand quaking violently against the wall while a silver dollar sized patch of skin stretched full of fluid, "Ah son of a _bitch_ that hurts..." then ruptured spilling water and blood down in pink droplets onto the floor.

"Do you think that humans are the only ones with the right to vengeance?" she asked, her finger nails grasping the skin of the blister. With a flick and twist layers were torn off leaving red raw meat oozing openly, trying to undo the damage done by the fire. Her captive screamed and panted as she trailed her talons down to Laura's fingers, "His brother gave his own followers to allow him passage into this world, so righteous was his quest... it's a family matter that you should NOT be involved with," she wrapped her hand around Laura's pinkie and snapped it then closed her eyes and breathed deep the piercing scream that stabbed the air.

"You need to get yourself out from under this thing's grip, please if we don't fight this our whole world won't stand a chance!" she pleaded weakly.

"Oh I'm not under its influence any more, thanks for that by the way," she smirked.

"Then let me go so we can take this thing down!" Laura frowned, _don't make me have to do it, just know what's good for you and let me down._

"Y'know, when your feeding your own darkness, you can be pretty scary for a once-upon-a-human, most of us didn't even _think_ of binding links until the one Sam Winchester calls Meg used it, but the most ingenious use of one, and the most cruel had to be when you carved it out of the flesh of one of those little meat-puppets to trap one of us in a corpse. _That_ was downright demonic," she sneered grasping Laura's ring finger, bending it and twisting it.

_That WAS pretty good, one of my better moments for sure..._ she smiled inside. "So what, this is personal?" Laura asked grunting against the waves of hot electrical shock that tore up her arm from her finger, making her heart race and her vision blur.

"Yeah," she nodded moving on to the middle finger.

"Well, you should probably know... that crossroad demon? It isn't trapped, it's hounds aren't running feral somewhere, they're dead. Igigi food. They _ripped_ that demon mouthful by mouthful out of the host. My bind couldn't stop them, so think about this before you throw away your chance to kick those sons of bitches out of our world, hiding inside humans _won't_ protect you from them. They'll tear you right out of the people you hide in, and in the end the humans _will_ outlast the demons simply because we're a self replicating food source for them, we may wind up little more than cattle but at least we'll still exist," she explained and screamed again as the demon inside the child broke a third finger with a horrible snarl then brought her elbow into Laura's jaw, followed by a fist, then piercing fingers that grabbed her chin.

"Even still you count yourself among them... you're no more human than I am emissary," she spat.

--

"Mr. Fogerty?" Dr. Abrams asked as Sam straightened up with his cup of coffee in hand.

"How's my brother?" he asked rolling his head on his neck, _uh nuh... guh... hold on..._ he sipped the coffee, his eyes squinting against the suddenly horribly bright light, his hand reached out to the short wall that separated the cafe part of the waiting area from the rest.

"We've just moved him into recovery...Are you alright?" he asked.

Sam nodded wincing, "Migraine, they come on quick sometimes..." he grunted tightly and set the coffee down then leaned on the small table.

"Oooh sorry... and stress sure doesn't help, anyway it's going to be about an hour, hour and a half before he comes completely out from the anesthetic, but everything went very well," he stood near the young man with the waxy complexion, wondering if he was going to faint or not, it certainly wouldn't be the first time.

Strobing flashes of light and sound ricocheted around inside his head, jumping like a needle bouncing on a record, his spine clenched and he knew as surely as he was standing there, that Hendrickson and the demon were coming. It'd been a long time since he'd been near any demon powerful enough to spark a vision that hurt this badly, but what he wanted to know was WHY it hadn't happened before, _yeah let's not forget the How the hell is it tracking me? I KNOW I'm the reason they're almost here, I'm the reason it found us at the cabin, well the reason it wanted to, and I'm the reason my brother was nearly killed... AGAIN!_

"S'he gonna lose the arm?" Sam choked out bending at the waist, still clutching the table with one hand while he pressed the palm of the other to his eyes.

"Once we get the results we'll have more information... do you want to lie down?" he asked.

Sam shook his head, "When can I take him home?"

"Just a couple more hours... we need to make sure he doesn't have any adverse effects from the anesthetic, we could put you in a consultation room with the lights off..." he offered again, now helping the young man into the chair.

Sam shook his head, fighting the urge to slide down to the floor in a fetal position until the vision passed. He grasped the cup of coffee and took a sip, his features slowly loosening as he told himself, _I get it, I get the message they're coming and we gotta get the hell outta here... Okay... I got it. _

"No... thanks..." he smiled breathlessly, his color still drained but at least he could raise his eyes and look at the surgeon, "... it's going...so just a couple more hours then?"

"Yes, we'll have results for you in the morning," Dr. Abrams smiled looking very relieved as he dropped a gentle hand onto Sam's shoulder.

"Thanks," the youngest Winchester nodded noting which door he retreated behind and waiting just long enough to drain his coffee before following.

--

tbc.

please R&R.

Thanks. sifi.


	8. Chapter 8

Twilight – chpt 8

by; sifi.

--

Sam looked quickly around and pulled the curtain closed. He grabbed the bag with Dean's clothes from under the cart and tossed the shirts and jacket onto the chair. Turning to reach out a hand to wake his brother, he stopped abruptly and really seemed to _see_ the man in front of him. He was laying on his right side, a pillow curled and held tightly to himself, knees edged upward toward his chest. There were no lines on his face, and Sam could almost imagine that the flickers of brightness in his hair were once again the blonde bits he'd inherited from their mother rather than the few silver hairs that were starting to come far too soon for a man of only 30 years.

_He looks... innocent. Oh man..._ Sam rolled his head, his eyes misting and his mouth pursing with frustration for the lives they led and what it had done to the man he considered more of a father than John had ever been in his book. _Can't we just...? Could we start again... PLEASE!_ the plea clawed its way out of an Andrew Lloyd Weber melody at the back of his brain, captive for the whole of their lives as he leaned down and laid his hand on Dean's head, bringing his lips close to his ear.

"C'mon Dean... y'gotta get up now..." he whispered.

Despite the sedatives in his system Dean groaned and started to stretch, his brows coming together, the lines coming back shattering the illusion of innocence, "Shhh, quiet... we gotta go!"

"Mmm?" the elder brother's eyes struggled to come open while Sam moved to the foot of the cart, stripping him of the hospital slippers. He leaned down with his big brothers' sock in hand and caught sight of probably more than 30 black marks dotting the deep blue-green of the bruise over the heel, instep and outside of his left foot where it looked like he'd stepped on a bed of nails. He winced feeling his throat tingling and trying to close. Pinpricks released glassy moisture over his eyes and he shook his head, _God I'm so sorry Dean, I never meant to let you down_. His brows furrowed as a spike slammed between his eyes and he saw a midnight blue four door Chevy rolling up to the Ambulance driveway at the Emergency room. His skin prickled and he had the distinct feeling of something amorphous, slick and cancerously evil sliding over him. It was the same feeling he'd had last night when Hendrickson and the girls had arrived at the cabin. The same feeling that made his bladder feel full, and allowed him to leave a friend behind. Once again, he could feel that evil, looking for him, _NO!_ he barked inside his mind, closing himself off from the vision, every instinct to get them out of there and to protect his brother given a swift kick in the mental behind.

Shaking off the guilt, he quickly slid Dean's socks on. This was followed by getting his jeans on up to his knees before trying to rouse him again.

"C'mon Dean..." Sam whispered cutting the IV flow and unscrewing the connector from the hub still in the back of his hand when a thought occurred to him and his face fell, _please tell me they didn't catheterize you for this..._ he begged silently and looked around the cart for the tell-tale bag. He breathed a sigh of relief and scooped his brother's torso into his arms, untying the jonnie and sliding it off him while Dean fought to awaken.

"Mm... aaam?" he grunted frowning, visibly trying to open his eyes, to gain control of his body while the jonnie slid off and was replaced with soft cotton that smelled like him, and was almost worn through to nothingness. He shook his head slurring out something unintelligible as strong arms came around him, shifting his position before he felt himself take flight.

"Shhh damnit Dean shut up... just help me out here," Sam whispered.

Dean felt his body bend over his little brother's broad shoulder, and if not for the knowledge that it WAS Sam, would have started to put up a fight as he felt his pants being drawn up and the button fastened, "Oh man..." he heard Sam whine quietly just before the sound of a zipper moving came to his ears. "You did this for me for how many years?" the younger brother shook his head then set Dean in the chair while he slid his boots on.

"Ssancho?" Dean grinned, his eyes finally starting to come open. His hand came out to pet his little brother.

Sam sighed, "Here your grace."

"My armor...mmm sword..." the older hunter snickered.

Sam hung his head and sighed, "More misadventures?" he slid his big brothers' arms gently into his jacket, and careful to stay on the right, lifted the older man to his feet.

"_Ad_ventures my friend..." Dean sighed gently knocking his temple against Sam's companionably.

"Alright your grace, just keep your yap shut and we might be able to slide past the King's guards..." Sam urged. It'd been years since Dean had been drugged up enough to slip into one of his favorite stories, in fact, it'd been so long that Sam was fairly certain his older brother didn't have a clue that he even knew about it. Still Sam did know the story of Don Quixote De LaMancha, and he understood why it was probably his brother's all time favorite. Both men allowed themselves the delusions necessary to live in their respective worlds and maintain some semblance of sanity, and just like Sancho Panza, Sam would defend to the death his Don Quixote's right to see the world as a better place than it really was. He had eyes enough to see reality for both of them and strength enough to bear that burden as well.

"Slide past..." Dean frowned.

"Yes your grace, to free thy lady Dulcinea a bit of stealth is all we need..."

"Ahhh well then... stealth indeed..." Dean nodded, his head cocking to the side as his eyes opened just a little further and his mouth pursed in a near frown, "Sam?"

"Hendrickson's here... and he's not alone... stay quiet," Sam directed then checked beyond the curtain, and taking advantage of a clear moment drew his brother quickly along the rear wall of the recovery room to the closest exit.

He swung Dean gently into the hallway, propped him up against the wall and forced the door shut as quickly and quietly as possible. A peek through the window told him the Federal Agent still hadn't made it into the recovery suite just yet.

"Sorry Dean..." he apologized slinging the older man over his shoulders, "Just keep your mouth shut!"

"Sure thing Sancho," Dean grunted grinning hugely with the sensation he was flying as his little brother did indeed seem to glide down the stairs.

A moment later he was back on his own feet, supported by the wall and Sam was peering cautiously out a small crack in the door.

_Please be parked out front, please be parked out front..._Sam chanted inside as he silently drew the door to the parking garage open and glanced around, checking the license plates of cars near the Impala for one that matched Hendrickson's from last night. A pained groan oozed out from behind the door just as something wet splattered on the cement behind him with enough force for him to feel it also peppering his shoe and jeans. _Oh man... did he just puke? He did, he puked... on me! Gross..._ but another thought followed quickly, _Karma... it's gotta be karma... for all the times I musta yakked on him when we were kids._ When he was satisfied neither Hendrickson's car, nor the little girl were anywhere near he turned back to retrieve his brother and stopped, his heart thumping hard in his chest at the sight before him.

Dean was slumped against the wall, a puddle of gritty yellow bile between them, his mouth was bowed down and his hands were pawing at the tears flowing down his face. His blood shot jade green eyes looked up and met Sam's. His cheeks blazed slap-red while the rest of his face was nearly white.

"Dean? What's the matter man?" Sam asked wondering if something had gone wrong, if he'd hurt him rushing to get him dressed.

He looked down, "...made a mess... gonna get in trouble... go Sammy, go hide..." he shook his head, "Miss Mmm...ket...chup...she's goan g'pissed, make trouble for dad and he'll be mad..." he shook his head, his voice almost childlike in its resignation, "...gonna get in trouble..."

_Miss McKetridge... where was that? Arkansas? Man, a bitch and her switch... that was like...what? Third or fourth grade for him... wonder if dad knew she beat the kids, wonder if he woulda cared..._Sam thought then swallowed hard unnerved by his brothers' state. He pulled Dean off the wall and into his arms, once again making certain to support him from the right side, "It's okay Dean, we're not gonna get in trouble I promise... but we have to go, get you home so you can rest okay?" he half carried his big brother into the garage whispering easy assurances, "... it's okay, dad'll understand... c'mon now, let's go home okay?" as he worked Dean into the back seat, stuffing the pillow under his head and covering him with the blanket before pulling out onto the main road, glancing into the rear view mirror nervously and wondering just how long they had before Hendrickson caught up to them with that little girls help.

--

"_Alright Mr. Fogerty, I'm Dr. Abrams, can you hear me?" asked the cultured voice he couldn't see. _

'_John Fogerty... hey dumbass they're talking to you,' something inside reminded him, 'funny that sounded like dad...' "Mmm hmmm," he hummed and thought he might be smiling. 'could be the best rest I've had in ages, I feel like... almost good, or like it _could_ be good again... that would be nice.'_

"_Can you feel this Mr. Fogerty?" that nice rich voice asked again. _

'_Oh yeah, that's me again,' "Mm mm," and he was pretty sure he made his head roll back and forth. _

'_mmm drugs're good mmmkay...' he thought, 'except... I can't...' he tried to move but felt hands pressing down on him in several places while voices overlaid one another. _

"_No, no, don't move now... just hold still Mr. Fogerty, we're almost done..." one of them told him. _

'_No... wait... I gotta, I can't,' his throat tightened and those hands pressed down harder. A flash of ruby lips through his mind sucked a muted yelp from deep inside and he pushed, harder, 'No! I gotta get out...I GOT out... I got free... no more... please, no more...' his heart was pounding. _

"_His heart rate just shot up again, 206, BP's at 190 over 90," a voice pressed urgently. _

"_Let him go, let go..." the rich voice advised as the hands left his body. _

"_Better," the urgent voice seemed a little more relaxed, "...pulse is 172, BP's falling, 150 over 85," she seemed to sigh. _

"_It's alright Mr. Fogerty, it's alright you're safe..." he soothed. _

"_This is the kidnap guy?" the nurse asked finally making the connection and checking the monitor, "...pulse is 64, pressure's 118 over 71," she definitely sighed. _

"_Yeah, from what Dr. Blumenthal could get out of him he had a rough time of it, kid's gonna need some serious post trauma help..." _

"_I heard something about nails and barbed wire..." the nurse asked softly. _

'_hmm not fun... she clipped some of the tips and bent others to catch the skin better... felt some of it scraping bone too... like chewing on tin foil except with your whole body,' Dean thought and grunted with a shake of his head as the memory came back, feeling metal fire tearing through him. 'I don't remember...' he thought pushing, trying to wade through the darkness, flashes of rock, plant, darkness, and the sound of a woman screaming, there was something inside his chest, he could feel it under his skin, it ground up against his sternum trying to burrow into him while teeth gnawed and pulled his flesh, 'is that what's going to happen when I get to hell?' he wondered as his fingers flexed and tried to pull, his legs worked to push and he forced himself to crawl, to get back to his Sam, make sure he was safe. _

"_Easy there tiger, easy..." the doctors' voice soothed again, "...he's fighting it too hard, put him under," he instructed. _

'_Ahhh... dark...' he sighed his retreat. _

_LATER..._

"_C'mon Dean... you gotta get up now..." _

'_Mmm know that voice...Sammy needs me...' "Ooouhng?"_

"_Shhh, quiet... we gotta go!" _

'_mmm... ep's Szzammy...' "Mmm?" then something tickled his feet. His toes flicked and were cold for a second before being covered again, 'hmmm good...warm...' _

_His brows furrowed and he frowned as a breeze slid up his legs and big warm hands slid something heavy and even warmer over his legs and up to his knees, 'stiff... Sszzammy... _

_Szammy's here... he wants to crawl in?... Nah... we're too big for that now... wha's'ee want?' "Mmm? ...aaam?" he shoved the sound out of his throat and frowned. 'eyes don't work... sticky... c'mon open sezme...hmm just one mebbe?' those warm strong hands pulled him up and held him, then when they took away the warmth, he tried to swat them away. 'hmm? Quit it Szam!...' a familiar sensation tickled his nose as something was drawn over his head carrying his own scent and leaving him feeling reassured by the familiarity. _

"_Shhh damnit Dean shut up... just help me out here," Sam's breath tickled his ear. _

'_ooh...going up... I think...mmmebbe down...eech... over... doood...playing with my pants, quit it... meh... whatever... s'just Szam...' he felt his lips curl into a soft smile, _

"_Oh man...You did this for me for how many years?"_

'_szometimes I can still smell baby magic and mom on him...' he sighed as Sam swung him around and lowered him into a chair then started playing with his feet again. _

_His brows furrowed, 'Hmm, heavy feet...' "Sancho?" _

"_Here your grace..." as if from miles away. _

"_Mmm armor?... Mmm sword?" he could feel his mouth tilting upward, 'Mmm ready! Adventure... whoo hoo... where's that damned windmill?'_

"_More misadventures?" _

'_Good Sancho... so... stalwart... hmm didn't even know I knew that word... heh...' silky waves slid through his fingers. "Hmm Adventures my friend..." 'Adventures... where is he?' he felt his eyes open, 'ahh there he is...' he leaned his head to the side touching his temple to that of ever faithful brother-in-arms, 'love you man...shhh...'_

"_Alright your grace, keep your yap shut and we might be able to slide past the kings guards..." pain shot up his foot as he was hauled up and held tightly. _

"_Slide past...?" he frowned, 'Don Quixote does not SLIDE past... there's no honor in SLINDING past...'_

"_Yes your grace to free thy lady Dulcinea, a little stealth is what we need..." _

"_Aahh well then," ' if it is for the welfare of my lady...' "...stealth indeed..." he sighed watching liquid brown eyes smiling into his, the memory of a gentle sweep of the fingers and a warm soft press of the mouth to his temple, 'Laura...' "Sam?" he asked as his surroundings became more clear and more easily identifiable, 'oh yeah... 'nother town, 'nother hospital... surgery? Do I still have my arm?' he wondered fleetingly. _

"_Hendrickson's here... and he's not alone... stay quiet," Sam's voice was quiet and urgent, his little brothers' grip was strong and warm while he looked around. _

'_Draggin' me around dude...' he looked around the gray cement tube and saw stairs, 'where are we?...' he saw his little brother pushing on the door, 'Sammy... it opens the other way... Hendrickson... know somebody... hmm that's bad right?'_

"_Sorry Dean..." Sam breathed then squeezed the air out of him with his shoulder. "Just keep your mouth shut!" _

'_he sounds mad...' "Sure thing Sancho," 'oooh I'm flyin'... remember Sammy? You used t'like this... you'd squeal till you pee'd man... I tried to make you happy Sam... were you ever happy? Did I do good?' the ground was spiraling up at him while he glided in circles down and down some more, 'Oooh, round, and around, and around... oh that's really not good... oooh too many circles...crazy circles never seem to end... mmm crazy circles goin' round and round and round... Sammy? You gotta stop dude... oh this can't be good for you... man he's got his shoulder in my gut... I'm gonna barf... hold it in man... hold it in...flying is NOT good!' _

_Then the wall was holding him up and the warmth of his brother was gone, 'Hold it in... like Ms Ketchup would say... "Hold it in or lick it up... control young man... you MUST have control of yourself at all times!" 'CRACK!' the three foot long pointer snapped against the desk. He winced at the sharp sound and his tummy clenched, hot stinging acid shot up and out splattering wetly on the floor, 'no sawdust... just the switch... the switch cause I wouldn't lick it up... then Sammy saw...' how his baby brother's blue-greens had spilled for him, 'I remember now... no Sammy you can't tell anyone... shhh no you can't tell dad he'll get mad I made trouble...' he was fairly sure he could still feel Sam in his arms dropping tears onto his shoulders because he knew his big brother just didn't have any left right then._

"_Dean? What's the matter man?" Sam's brows were squeezed tightly together._

'_he looks scared... he should be...soooo very not good, oh boy,' He looked down at the puddle on the floor, "...made a mess... gonna get in trouble... go Sammy, go hide. Miss Mmm...ket...chup... she's goan g'pissed, make trouble for dad and he'll be mad.." he shook his head resigned to the facts, "...gonna get in trouble..."_

_Sam pulled him off the wall and into a protective little brother hug before moving them out through the door and into a world of cars, "It's okay Dean, we're not gonna get in trouble, I promise, but we have to go, get you home so you can rest okay?" _

_Dean couldn't keep up, his feet were dragging the ground, 'but that's okay cause now my foot doesn't hurt... but I think some of my skin is coming off... cause I feel some wet sticking to my shirt... s'okay... just so we don't get in trouble...'_

"_...it's okay, dad'll understand... c'mon now, let's go home okay?" Sam sat him down in the back seat of the Impala. _

'_I'd know that smell anywhere... are we goin' for a joyride Sam? Cause dad isn't gonna like that...Oooh! A pillow...mmm' he curled his right arm under it wondering why his left felt like there was a raging bull stomping around on it, 'S'good... now all I need's a...' a warm layer of softness was dropped over him, Sam's strong hands tucking the blanket securely around him, '...awesome...nite Sam,' he thought briefly as the engine roared to life, the glass-pack chop suddenly sounding more like a side of beef in a wood chipper while in the back of his mind a woman started to scream, and garnet colored lips smiled cruelly. Fear pounded his heart while the sound of metal on stone reminded him that there was a nail pinning him to the wall. 'Pluheese stop...' he bit the inside of his mouth and tears streamed shamelessly from his eyes. _

--

tbc.

Please R&R.

Thanks.

sifi.

**A/N – Dean's point of view can be directly attributed to my beloved Catbeist. The idea was hers, the execution was mine... if there is fault to find, then it lies with me. If there is lauding to be done... props should go to her for the inspiration. :D **


	9. Chapter 9

Twilight chpt 9.

by: sifi.

--

"Daaaammmnit! You think you're Bo Duke'er something!" Tommy hollered clutching the rent-a-car's "OH SHIT!" bar as his uncle wheeled the vehicle into a tight U-turn.

"Geez man! Warn a guy when you're gonna go all Dukes of Hazzard on 'im alright!"

"Sorry Tom, but I'm not about to jinx those boys by breaking a promise... they move to a different motel and get on the horn to Bobby about finding some way to camouflage themselves and we check out the girls sitch... I made a deal," Shep shook his head.

"Yeah but you might need ME! So quit trying to throw me out the damn car ya jackass!" Tom reprimanded sharply.

His uncle half smiled, half scowled across the front seat, "No more wasting daylight boy, Sam and Dean are back on the road, no sign of the fibbie yet, but... how the hell did they find them so easily?"

"Sam figures the kid's got some kinda sight..."

Shep turned and scowled, "What would make him think that?" he asked.

Tommy shook his head as memories of the youngest Winchester at points in his life ran through his minds eye; the squealing happy face slapping the image of his big brother in the monitor at the mini-mart he'd worked at when he first met John and his youngest. A fishing trip he and Shep had taken the boys on when Sam was maybe four and ran across a baby rabbit with malformed hind legs, leaving it unable to hop. He could see the boy with the helpless creature cupped in his hands, its tiny heart beating so fiercely its whole body shook, and Sam's small fingers stroking the fur while he talked quietly to it. The boys' blind faith and radiant expectation that he could fix anything clawed at Tommy's heart until he'd dug up an old cigar box and helped make a bed for the doomed animal. Tommy couldn't remember exactly how many prayers he'd said that night that the creature would survive until John came to pick the boys up, and it had, though sadly, only until a couple hours later. Tommy had even decided that should Sam ever ask about the bundle he'd dubbed Peter Cocktail, he'd raise his hand to heaven and swear that it got well enough to be released.

A dozen more memories moved through his mind making him smile no matter how sadly.

"He's got a gift, you know that..."

Shep nodded, "Alright we'll get details when we hook up with 'em... how far are we from her cell phone?"

A cursory glance at his GPS and Tom nodded, "About twenty minutes out, plenty of daylight left."

--

"That's enough!" Hendrickson barked grasping the child by the upper arm and turning her, _IT!_ he reminded himself, it's attention away from the nurse that was pinned up against the wall and bleeding from the nose.

It's fury hit him square with spike-ish prickles that tore through him like exploding glass, knocking him across the recovery bay, leaving him gasping for breath, "You don't want to leave a trail of bodies..." he choked, ignoring the pleading look from the woman on the wall.

The thing inside the girl huffed and rolled its head around, as if feeling for sunlight. In a breath it moved toward the emergency exit. Turning its head over its shoulder, it looked at Special Agent Hendrickson, "Come," it instructed leading him toward the door.

Every ounce of Victor's concentration was being spent in an exercise he hadn't paid heed to since childhood. It was a simple visualization that Aunt Lettie had taught him. He was to imagine his 'psychic self' in the center of a sphere with a reflective outside that cast everything from 'negative energy' to 'The Evil Eye' back away from him, and made certain to protect him from any kind of 'spiritual or psychic attack'.

In the back of his mind Victor Hendrickson wanted to roll his eyes and tell himself it was all bullshit. He wanted to let himself _think_ that none of this could really be happening, but the truth of the matter was that he knew better than to let that happen. His instincts told him the only way _any _of them, even the Winchester boys were going to get out of this alive was if he kept his thoughts out of mind-shot of this walking abomination. Thankfully, he was a man who tended to listen to his instincts.

At the base of the stairs the thing inside the child stopped and leaned over a fresh puddle of what could only be vomit, Victor watched as it inspected the retch then grinned, "They came through here... we're close..." it said, and though Special Agent Hendrickson thought he could hear the same chop fading quickly in the distance that he'd heard last night when they slid out of his grip, he kept his mouth and mind shut hoping for the first time since he'd been put on this case, that those boys would at least double the speed limit.

--

_Oh God what now!?_ Sam thought, his hands trembled as he pulled the car over to the shoulder and prepared to be slammed between the eyes again. Once the strobing stopped he saw the road passing, it wasn't very different from the one they were on, _it was still daylight as the white and gold state trooper's car came speeding toward them in the opposite lane, swerving at the last second to impact the Impala head on. Sam could almost FEEL his head crack against the steering wheel as red dominated his vision and uncomfortably close by, something burst into flames leaving his brother screaming and trapped in the back seat. _

"Guh..." he gasped as the vision disappeared leaving behind a vacuum of sorts that made him want to pop his ears. He twisted in the seat, his eyes landing on Dean's sweat soaked and anxious face. _He's having a bad dream... I wish I could just... WILL him to rest without dreaming, like she does... I hope to God for his sake she's okay, but... I got a bad feeling..._ he turned back to face the road before him, _I gotta get us off this road,_ he rubbed the sweat out of his eyes, his chest tight with anxiety as he pulled the car back onto the ribbon of blacktop, searching for any turn that looked like it was another main artery, or for an oncoming state trooper's car.

--

Deputy Sheriff Bruce Berkins finished his coffee and turned up the volume on his radio hoping to hear the score under all the static that suddenly ripped through the broadcast. "Damn trees..." he grunted throwing his car into gear and pulling out onto the two lane highway.

"...and the Reds are up 3 to two as we go to our commercial break..." he heard and grinned, "Reds are up... sweet... it's about time..." his foot pressed the accelerator as gold-green light danced over him through the windows.

He heard the chop before he saw the vehicle and wondered just what kind of a classic was coming toward him. Aside from sports he had a penchant for classic cars, and in this area, well kept ones were always a joy to see.

Up ahead sunlight shot off the chrome surrounded by a halo of glossy black, "Oh yeah that's gonna be a beaut... what is it? Charger? GTO? ..." he wondered squinting into the piercing light. He leaned forward, his arm drawing the wheel slightly to the left before he quickly adjusted, centering himself into his lane once more.

"Whatever it is it's beautiful...it's a Chevy... Bet it's an Impala...late sixties for sure..." he surmised as the grill and headlights became more well defined, more readily identifiable, "Man I haven't seen a nice Impala in ages..." he grinned as the distance between the cars closed quickly, _I'd love to get a closer look at that baby..._ he thought contentedly, _"So TURN... NOW!"_ a multilayered voice shattered his thoughts, turned his stomach, tossing his coffee up his throat and into his mouth as his body snapped rigid and his arm drew the steering wheel to a sudden inexorable sharp left turn. He felt his eyes bulge as the coffee dribbled down his chin, his body and mind on fire, heavy pins and needles racing in slow motion through his nervous system as the driver of that fine Impala broke to his own left, passing the trooper's vehicle with only millimeters to spare before he pulled with screaming tires to the shoulder of the road, both vehicles on the same side, both stopped with a solid fifty feet between them.

Sam shuddered a breath, threw the car into park, cut the engine sliding the keys into his pocket and locked all the doors but his. In the rear view mirror he saw the trooper open his driver door, his face pale and flustered as he clutched the roof of his own car. _Thank God..._ Sam sighed opening the driver door and stepping out, his guts keeping him between the car and the door as he called out, "You okay?"

The trooper nodded taking a few shaky steps toward the Impala, "Yeah... you?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded almost taking a hesitant step forward.

"_Wound him..." _Deputy Berkins heard that..._sound_ again.

Sam saw him move, saw his hand unsnap the holster, grab the gun, raise it and shoot before the sound of the shot even entered his ears. Pain came a split second later as his right shoulder was slapped back with the impact of the .9mm slug. The frame of the impala cut into his back between his shoulder blades as his jaw dropped, _What the hell... OUCH!_ "STOP!" he yelled forcefully and ducked back into the car digging into his pocket with a burning right arm and barely enough muscle control to grasp the keys.

"Sammy? S'goin' on?" Dean roused from the back seat and started to sit up.

"Dean stay down!" Sam barked as his left elbow came down on the door lock.

"Talk to me Sam..." Dean urged but followed his brother's instructions, "What's goin' on?"

A second bullet 'ping'ed' into the car's body.

"Who the hell's shooting my car!?" he yelled, a scowl of mammoth proportions audible in his voice while he looked around the inside for other signs of damage.

In just a few seconds that took way too long, the Impala's tires were spitting rocks and debris at the Deputy.

Glancing in the rear view mirror Sam saw the man standing in the middle of the shoulder, his gun in his hand, down at his side. He made no effort to give chase. _What the hell was that about?_ he wondered feeling more than a little nauseous suddenly.

"Sam?" Dean asked again pushing himself stiffly up until he was sitting upright.

"I wish I knew Dean..."

Red caught the elder hunters' eye, "Sam you're shot," he said softly.

"I know," Sam nodded.

"Pull over... you shouldn't be driving dude..." he tried to adjust his position and lost his balance shifting onto his left arm as it snaked out to try and stop him from falling. Bolts shot up the extremity lighting his entire body on fire as he howled then groaned clutching the traitorous appendage to his chest while he clamped down on his lower lip, rolling onto his back, "...ahh haa son of a bitch... muther...fff... juggs and speed! that hurts!"

"Yeah, you're not exactly fit to be driving either..." Sam shook his head, "We gotta get settled somewhere... we're in trouble Dean..."

"Big?" Dean grunted.

"Maybe _real_ big..." Sam nodded, "...and I don't know how to fix it..." _I feel sick... I'm gonna hurl... no, no I got it..._ he breathed through his mouth rolling down the window, _it's not the first time... just gotta get settled somewhere... God it's still in there... I can feel it pinching, grinding... crap... _a tight whimper came out while in the back seat Dean lay on his back, sweating rivers, holding his arm tightly and rocking against the pain. _I wonder if he's bleeding again...should really hook another bag of antibiotics into that thing._

"Sssokay... we'll figure it out..." he groaned, "Oh hell..."

"What?" Sam asked.

"Gonna puke Sam... Pull over..."

In moments Dean was crawling out of the car blood pouring out of the left sleeve of his coat, covering his hand, rocks and pebbles clinging to the sticky wetness before Sam reached him, holding him steady while he dry heaved himself into semi-consciousness.

"Son of a bitch..." Sam cursed making sure his big brother was solidly in the back seat once he nodded he was done, "You're bleeding... I gotta look at you here..." Sam slid the jacket off and grimaced. Dean's t-shirt was almost wringable it was so heavily laden with blood, and the stitches that had been put into his arm at the biopsy site had completely torn open, "...and that fracture can't be feeling too good either...damnit!" Sam grunted wishing they'd taken the time to cast the forearm, but until they were sure about the possibility of surgery they'd opted not to. _I should have insisted... son of a bitch! I'm sorry man... I should've figured better... _

Dean's head rolled downward, his eyes squinting at the glossy red t-shirt then over to the bandage that was literally dripping, "Oh hell..." he moaned folding his left arm as tightly as he could in an effort to staunch the flow before pulling away the neck of the shirt with his right to see where he else he was bleeding from.

"Mmm s'the one on my chest... kinda pouring a lot..." he frowned as Sam took a look.

"That's where the stick got wedged, it bled like crazy the other night too... Laura said a vessel got sliced... we must'a torn the stitches...Lay on your back Dean," Sam instructed, stuffing the pillow back under his big brother's head.

He dashed to the trunk and rummaged until he found a small box of sterile four by fours in one of the bags then returned to the back seat peeling the gluey, soaked shirt from Dean's chest and sliding the gauze onto the wound. He pressed his brothers right hand down on the bundle, "Keep pressure on it I'm gonna get us settled at the first place I see okay?"

"Make it the second place Sam... what happened back there wasn't an accident... that bitch wants to slow us down, force us to hole up somewhere... hell if you think you can make it... go to the third place you see," Dean breathed as cottony darkness crawled into his vision again a combination of the remainder of the sedatives, blood loss, and throbbing agony that made him wonder if he should just have Sam chop the arm off right here and now, and have done with it.

_Or maybe she'll figure we'll run as far as we can before collapsing... first or third? Which makes more sense? Is it gonna matter?_ Sam wondered pulling his cell phone and dialing Bobby, _Please tell me you found some kind of way for me to camouflage us... please! _

--

"Oh man..." Tommy groaned softly pointing at patch of blood soaked earth.

"S'a few days old... gotta be Dean's... this must be where Sam found him," Shep nodded, "Guess it mighta been bad enough after all huh youngun?"

Tommy scowled but nodded, "Yeah..." he swallowed hard motioning forward, where more blood stained and broken flora led them, "C'mon, her phone's just another hundred yards ahead or so," his GPS indicated.

They crouched at the edge of the woods scanning the area, noting the car Sam told them to look for, its side was streaked with dull deep brown that matched the trail leading into the building. A quick nod and they turned their eyes to the stone structure, neither man able to make out what it was truly intended to have been. For the moment it simply appeared to be a high two story column of stone with, from their particular vantage two windows, and a large double door that stood wide open.

Tommy frowned and tapped his uncle's shoulder urging him to listen. There was literally no noise around them, no animal, wind, bird or insect sounds, nothing but the sound of their own footfalls. They exchanged a knowing look, both of them aware that there was something extremely powerful nearby.

Shep motioned Tom around the building and watched him move stealthily off, his gun cocked and ready until his nephew signaled he was in place and ready to cover him until they stood, one man on either side of the doorway.

With a glance and a nod each, they turned together, guns up and stepped over the threshold into the structure and into a cascade of screams that were hidden from the outside world, the kind that raised their collective hackles.

Silence broke quickly as Tommy indicated a staircase on the right, barely visible in the deepest shadows. Shep nodded scanning the interior of the building while the younger man mounted the steps, striding quietly upward, clinging to darkness that led him to a loft of sorts. It was a small monkish room with a window that looked down on the forest below, but on the side opposite of their approach. Behind the door was another small staircase that led through a trap door in the ceiling. He moved quickly sliding the bolt and scanning the rooftop, then certain they were alone, returned gliding almost like a wraith to his uncle.

They continued to the rear of the place where a stone stairwell, lit with old fashioned torches led the way down. Neither man had failed to notice how the blood trails got heavier the deeper they went, there were streaks along the walls that seemed older and the smears on the floor seemed far more fresh, as were the indentations indicating someone had been dragged this way, someone who was NOT Winchester sized.

Careful not to let their feet scuff the stone they moved with long practiced precision down the steps and stood staring in disbelief at the underground corridor. It extended approximately thirty yards straight ahead; there were two heavy wooden cell-style doors on each side and a grated trap door in the floor at the far end. In the short corridor the screams had given way to rolling echoes of grunts, epithets, mewls and whimpers as each man took a side and moved to the doors one by one, as ready as they could be for what might come.

In moments they knew their quarry was literally in the last place they would look, the end cell with the trap door. Both men had seen cells of this type before. They knew that back in the day, these kinds of underground chambers were reserved for the vilest of criminals, they also knew that when the trap door was opened, a counter-weighted staircase would descend granting access to the prisoners inside. If there was anything left of the girl that was worth saving they couldn't afford to alert her captor to their presence by opening that door before they had a chance to get the upper hand.

On their bellies they peered into the grate, the sound of desperation weighing heavily on the air through the grunts, gasps and tight squeals, "God please... please..." they heard a plaintive whisper, their eyes falling on a shock of blonde curl on the ground.

The lattice of the door obscured their vision and they moved closer to the far wall, peering in, wholly unprepared for the sight that met them.

--

tbc.

please R&R

thanks

sifi.


	10. Chapter 10

Twilight – chpt 10.

by: sifi.

--

"Oh my God..." Shep breathed, his gold-green eyes fixing on the cornflower blues of his nephew who nodded with his hand over his mouth.

They could see, from their vantage on the floor above the oubliette, peering through the grate of its trap-door, two females. One with blonde Shirley Temple curls and ruby lips against alabaster skin on the floor. Dark red blood had left a trail from her nose and the corner of her mouth down toward the floor. At first each man thought for a moment that the flicker of movement he was seeing was an illusion. But to their combined horror, they realized after a moment of ceaseless observation that she was still alive, sort of.

Their eyes moved up, toward the back of the cell where more horror imprinted itself upon them, leaving both seasoned hunters wondering just how on earth there could still be something that made them want to retch.

From where they were, they were unable to figure out how exactly she was affixed to the wall, and in all honesty they weren't sure they wanted to find out either, but they had to do something. Even if they hadn't been there as a favor for Dean, neither man could have ignored an atrocity like this.

The woman's arms dangled at her sides, every now and again reaching up to try and feel something behind her. Her t-shirt had been cut open and they noticed it appeared she was covered in a dozen or more black or bloody patches. A whiff of the air confirmed their suspicions, the smell of burning flesh was all too familiar to both hunters for them to be mistaken. The wall behind her glistened darkly and seemed to be slick the way her bared feet sought purchase only to slide off jarringly, leaving a whimper behind to stain the air.

Tommy nodded to Shep who rose grasping tightly the ring that opened the door and dropped the staircase. He saw her head snap up, and even heard it hit the wall as her mouth dropped open, "No! Don't!" she called breathlessly.

"It's okay, we're gonna get you outta there..." Tom assured as his uncle shifted his grip on the door to flip it the rest of the way open.

She shook her head violently, held out her hand in a universal stop gesture and pushed with both her feet and the free hand. She seemed to go into spasm as the wall behind her ran fresh with blood, "STOP!" she shrieked as Shep held the door up at its balance point.

"Holy crap Shep don't move the door!" Tom called noting the strand of silver both men had missed that seemed somehow attached to a raw wound in her side.

"What? What!" he barked holding the door still while his nephew leaned down peering into the cell.

"Oh man... that's effed up right there..." Tom groaned looking up into the older man's curious expression. "Just hold the door right there until I tell you its okay," he said grasping the rim of the entrance and lowering himself into the man-made bit of hell, careful not to touch the line of wire that led from the woman to the counterweight behind the stairs.

"There's clippers on the table..." she panted and looked heavenward before sighing, "Thank you..." a moment later with a metallic 'ping', the tension on her wound was gone and a blonde haired, blue eyed lanky man was giving wide berth to the twitching ruby lipped bitch on the floor.

It didn't register immediately, but as he approached her, he grasped something that sent shivers through him. The child on the floor was possessed. Her eyes were solid black and the host's body was dying. _Why is it still in there?_ he wondered.

"Okay Shep, t'sall good," he called over his shoulder, grimacing as he looked the woman up and down, wondering how she was stuck up there, "Laura Finnegan?" he asked.

_He said Shep... their friends from...? Oregon? _She wondered unable to recall much more at the moment. Slowly she nodded.

"I'm Tom Daykin, that's Shep McGregor... we're friends of..."

"The boys..." she nodded with a tight smile, "...they're in trouble... the thing, the marauder... it's gonna... they have...it's gonna kill them..." she dropped her head, her eyes going to the half dozen swooping gray-black figures, with their smoky appendages sweeping beneath the girls' skin, drawing out handfuls of Demon and stuffing it bit by bit into their voracious twisted maws. _That's right you bastards, feast away, live it up while you can... _

"What happened?" the older man asked then looked at Tom, "We need to get this thing bound."

"It can't hurt us anymore," she indicated the girl then answered his first question, "I couldn't take any more... and she wouldn't tell me anything else..." she nearly whispered as Tom leaned down looking at her side. _I gotta get to them, I gotta tell them but..._she looked from Tom to Shep, _I'll let Dean make that choice... it's his decision to make, not mine..._

"You did that?" Shep asked.

Laura nodded curtly as he pulled Tom away from her and unscrewed the top of a flask showering her with a spate of holy water.

"Stings a little in the burns," she admitted dryly as the men exchanged a look.

Shep moved forward holding the neck toward her, "Take a swig," he ordered.

She nodded and did as instructed.

"Sorry," he nodded once he was fairly convinced she wasn't possessed.

"I dig," she moaned letting her head roll forward in a faint nod while they approached her again, Shep peering behind her at the wall to see how she was pinned, and Tom examining how the wire had been run through her.

"Oh man..." the older man grunted.

"A few more millimeters on that door and this woulda torn right through..." Tom muttered clipping the wire close to the skin and after making sure there were no barbs at the back side, sliding it out of her and tossing it aside, his lips curled in distaste. He caught sight of deep bruising and crooked fingers on her left hand and grasped her wrist gently before looking into her eyes and motioning to Aileen, "She did this?" he asked noting the four broken fingers.

She nodded, "I need to get to them... please, I have to..." _stop this, _she pleaded, unable to hold back the streams of tears any longer, "... please..." she dropped her hands onto Tom's shoulders.

"She's hooked..." Shep sighed looking at the younger man then at her, "They look retractable, do you know which way they move?" he asked.

She shook her head, "Just... cut... we're running out of time..."

"Are you crazy?" popped out of Shep's mouth before he could stop himself.

Her left arm and both her legs clamped around Tom as she pulled and strained, using him and his initial instinct to retreat to try and pull herself off the wall. Her move took both men by surprise, "Get me off of these things!" she hollered twisting furiously before her left side broke free leaving her held with one hook through the muscle of her upper back on the right.

"Shepard!" Tom passed his uncle the clippers, his right arm wrapping around the woman clinging to him, giving whatever support he could, his eyes fixed on the patch of pink and red meat dangling from the hook.

A snip and a howl later her weight went dead and if he hadn't been holding her, she would have crashed to the floor.

"Oh shit... oh man, Tom... jeez dude..." Shep groaned watching his nephew grow stained red, "She needs a hospital man..."

A glint at the base of the wall caught his eye and he crouched down sweeping away straw and dirt. "Holy crap..." he sighed grabbing a short board with probably close to a hundred four inch long, blood covered nails hammered into it. "What the hell?" he asked turning back to cast another look at the twitching teen.

"What the hell is right man...what the hell went on here Shep?" Tom asked.

"I don't know youngun, let's just get out of here, drop this chick at a hospital and get to the boys," he urged drawing his gun and trying to shatter their eardrums with the blast that echoed in the pit.

What happened next froze them for a long series of moments that made their blood run cold.

The teenager's body jerked one last time with the invasion of the sanctified slug into her brain, but where they expected a streaming screaming jet of living dark dust that identified the essence of demon as it escaped from its once-upon-a-host; no such thing burst out into the air around them. Instead, through the hole his bullet made in her head, bubbling out over the speckles of red and gray were rolling bundles of that demonic darkness. Bits that blazed and flew twisted like smoke from a violent fire under normal circumstances simply seemed to ooze out, as if there was no 'life' to propel it. But to make matters even more curious, before those 'bubbles' of essence could even drop to the floor, some of those gloppy tendrils seemed to reverse course for a moment before literally disappearing from sight. Not through flight, not through any means Shep or Tom had ever seen before. Almost in fact as if the essence were being 'sucked' out of existence.

"Have you... ever...?" Tom asked.

"Never," Shep answered.

"Okay, that is really creepy..." Tom shuddered meeting Shep's also visibly disturbed expression as the girl in his arms started to come around again.

He lowered her feet to the ground but kept an arm around her just in case, "Can you walk?" he asked.

"Yeah," she nodded and stumbled as the ankle the Marauder had slammed in the car door buckled and she reached out clutching Tom, "...with a little help," she smiled tightly, "either of you seen my shoes?"

The sight of those sinister mottled gray faces, their warty pointy tongues slurping up the slowly bubbling demon remains while their eyes shifted from her to the men with her, sadistic gleeful hunger visible in their expressions turned her stomach. Without the current banquet to satisfy their gluttony she knew they'd gladly start working on Shep and Tom, attacking the 'demons' of their own human nature, each morsel their kind touched would spread and grow even the tiniest bit of corruptive darkness in a human's soul. The result was a rotting plague of personal decimation that provided a food source that would last until the person could no longer bear the weight of their own life. When it was time, _they _would descend en masse and fight over the last tattered remnants of the soul in question.

Shep spotted the gym shoes across the pit and grabbed them as Tom led the woman up the stairs, her eyes dripping as she followed the brown smears and splatters on the wall that they were all fairly sure came from the eldest Winchester as he made his escape.

A brown splotch on the stairs drew her attention as she shucked off Tom's assistance and hobbled in a half run to the stain, the finger tips of her good right hand touching the sign of his passage. A choking gasp tore from her closing throat as she was given glimpses of what he'd been put through just two nights ago.

"Take me to my men," she said softly, the look on her face and something in her voice left them unable to resist the plea.

--

"Nah! NO! Fight back you worthless... waste of..." the thing within the child beside him ground through clenched teeth, the girls hands pulled the sunglasses off her face leaving those red-orange sockets visible to examine the world around them, "No! NO! KILL HER!" she yelled, her fury growing palpable inside the vehicle.

Special Agent Hendrickson felt his heart start to race and struggled to contain the triumphant cry that wanted to erupt from him, _Something tells me your plans aren't coming together quite right you evil...it's the woman from last night, she's gotta be putting up a fight, whoever you are, you GO girl..._ he quickly clamped down on the thoughts while flossy tendrils of energy zipped through the car making him glad he kept his hair short. Otherwise he had a feeling he'd be sporting a full-on fro with the way his hackles were standing on end. His breath came short, his chest growing tight as the abomination pushed back in the seat, maybe watching something inside, maybe searching for something, or maybe just seething. _It's amazing how much eyes tell us even when they're not lookin' at us,_ he thought and allowed his foot to lift slightly from the accelerator.

_It was standing before the Emissary inside the child's mind, they were talking almost civilly, "...you're wrong, we WILL find a way to stop it, if you personally won't turn your back on whatever beef you've got with me there are going to be a lot of demons out there who will, at least long enough to drive back this son of a bitch and its troops," Laura rationed. _

"_You're the one who's wrong emissary... to think I care about what happens to this world? He wants your power, he wants yours, the Chosen's and the Champion's, but he doesn't need it," it could feel the smile on Aileen's lips, "he might even forgive me for killing you so long as he gets the Chosen and his Champion..." the demon sneered. _

"_At least let me know who's right hand is going to kill me," the emissary requested. _

_Aileen's body leaned forward and her mouth sneered simply, "No." _

_It was then that the situation fell apart. With a twist of her lips, the harbinger, the earthly representative of one of its enemy's incarnations brought her hands together, the brackets that were supposed to have held her indefinitely to the wall, slid out of the cement like a fine blade from flesh, the hands, one full of useless fingers, the other still in tact, grasped the teen's head, gripping it mercilessly despite the demon imbued strength behind its struggle to break free, "Show me EVERYTHING!" the emissary demanded. _

_As the demon sought to escape the child she drew her in pressing her jaw closed, and clamping those broken fingers over the nose. _

_Another bracket flew out of the wall from one of her ankles while the leg wrapped around the child, keeping the demon and host close so the emissary could maintain control. _

"_You can NOT escape..." she ground through clenched teeth. _

_Even this far removed, the raw power behind the will could be felt and the abomination inside the empty husk of Rachel Fairbanks quelled a shudder, 'foolish! idiotic demon! FIGHT BACK!' it commanded but the distance was too great. The emissary's will wrapped around both demon and child, binding them together until the human body it inhabited died. "KILL HER..." it tried again, but its command returned unheard. _

"_I want EVERYTHING you know..." the emissary spoke, her eyes glowing fiery luminous copper as her mouth descended onto those ruby lips drawing out every last bit of knowledge the demon possessed. _

"_NOOOOOOOO!" the marauding abomination screamed as the air around it began to crackle with fury, 'the Chosen and the Champion... I can use them against her, I can kill her with them... but I have to get to them first...'_

_When the emissary was done, the demon inhabited body of Aileen Fairbanks was dropped to the ground where the entrapped demon became food for the marauders nearby troops. _

--

Sam completed his third counterclockwise circuit around the motel room and buried the orange ember of the Palo Santo shaft into a brass bowl of salt, _Thank You Tamara... _he acknowledged gratefully. The last time she'd gone down to Peru she'd made certain to send a few lengths of the Holy Wood to Bobby, both for himself as well as for Sam and Dean, she'd also included some very detailed instructions for a wide variety of its uses, not the least of which was its Holy essence as a means to confound the 'sight' of those who would cause willful harm.

"How's it working Bobby?" Sam asked over the cell once the ritual was done.

"Great, not even the GPS can get a bead on you," he said. Sam could tell he was smiling on the other end, "Listen you just get yourselves taken care of, the others should be there in just a couple hours so keep your heads down okay?"

"Will do Bobby, thanks, for everything," Sam smiled half collapsing into the chair, his eyes falling on Dean who sat propped up in one of the beds still holding pressure against the pile of reddish-brown gauze on his chest with his good arm while his bad arm was bent and wrapped tightly in the hopes of keeping the bleeding under control.

"I'll call you with the results of the biopsy as soon as they call me alright kid?" he sighed wondering how many more problems these boys he loved like his own were going to have to face before they earned a little peace.

"We'll be waiting, thanks again..." Sam ended the call and dug into the box of medical supplies for the fifth of whiskey Laura had left with them.

"Aawww dude you are my freakin hero!" Dean grinned as his little brother unscrewed the cap and took three long gulps that twisted his face comically.

"That's better..." Sam sighed handing the bottle over.

"You must really be hurting..." Dean observed taking several long swigs himself, "Want me to see if I can get the bullet out of there?"

Sam spocked an eyebrow at his big brother, "Yeah cause you're so much better off than I am right now... I feel like I'm gonna throw up...we need food Dean..."

"Ugh, don't say 'throw up' man... I don't think I can handle another heave session," Dean groaned, "Call out and order something, something bread-y, you're not crossing that salt line or leaving the circle. Did Bobby say it was gonna be okay for them to cross it to come inside?" he asked.

"Yeah, the spell is literally to repel anything _evil,_ which apparently includes 'The Seeking Eye'..." Sam groaned looking over the short list of nearby restaurants that delivered.

"Then what Sam? We can't hide here for the rest of our lives. Hendrickson's that... _thing's_ puppet, if she can't find us with her supernatural freak-o-vision, then he will with good old fashioned investigative technique... How much deeper can we go man?" Dean wondered aloud and swigged from the bottle again.

Sam dialed one of the restaurants, holding the phone to his ear with his right hand and snagged the bottle from Dean for another three long droughts before handing it back, "I'm tellin' ya man... Yemin... it's the place to be..."

--

tbc.

Please R&R.

Thanks.

sifi.


	11. Chapter 11

Twilight – chpt 11.

by: sifi.

--

'_Nuh God... stop this please... don't, don't, please dont'... oh my hooollllyyy...' stinging burning layered through his skin, moving up and still somehow into him, 'Guh... nohhplease...' he screamed. Despite the bracket cutting into his throat he couldn't stop looking, watching those red talons digging between the layers of his skin where her sweep with the cat-o-nine-tails had left fiery oozing tears. '...please...' he gasped or maybe it was just inside as she yanked gleefully, tearing the envelope of him open._

"Dean!" Sam barked feeling his heart beating hard in his throat, _Please wake up... you're scaring me here... please_. He'd been trying to wake his big brother for nearly ten minutes, once the moaning and vague denials had turned to deep-lunged screams and pleas. _It's worse than Eddy Jay...can't he just... why can't he have peace?_ His hand shook violently as he wrapped it behind his brother's head sniffing, helpless against tears that were building, "Please Dean!" _please stop screaming... please wake up man,_ "Wake up! Please!"

"Nuh..." the older man shook his head but seemed to settle as Sam pulled him up a little, his glance flitting to the fresh stack of four by fours tightly taped down over the hole in his chest. _Where the hell are they! He needs to rest... he needs to sleep without dreaming! Maybe...? Something could..._ he saw again the pure fear in her eyes when she'd found him on the floor the night before last, _it's not like it used to be for her, she said... but it's... not after the cone of power, but maybe the gentler stuff... _A sharp whimpering denial snapped his attention back to his big brother.

"Dean!" he called once more as slowly his brother's milky green eyes fought the tarry depths of his nightmare experience.

His left arm, still folded and bound in that position gave a truncated swing before his focus was able to fix in the here and now. "Hmm?" he grunted pushing up with his right arm. His eyes darted around the room, fear shining brightly in them before his mouth turned down and a relieved sigh slid from his lips. "Mmm s'up?" he mumbled noting the crawling-bug-like feeling of sweat winding through his hair.

"You were..." Sam breathed shakily.

"Nightmare... stinkin' bitch's gonna haunt me till we're done with her... sorry man," he glanced at the clock as a knock sounded.

"Yeah?" Sam called.

"Martino's," an acne riddled pubescent voice nasaled through the door.

Dean's hand wrapped around his .9mm as Sam peered through the curtain before stepping over the half ring of salt and opening the door. He shoved two twenty's at the kid, snagged the two boxes and the bag then hastily closed the door.

"Don't you want your change?"

"Keep it," he barked throwing the slide and the deadbolt and joining his brother on the bed where they ransacked the order.

--

"Stop!...Gah..." her head turned quickly left and right before leaning back in the seat snarling unintelligibly. Her initial surprise at losing the 'bead' on the Winchester boys moved quickly from suspicion turning quickly to fierce anger. Maybe even enough so that Victor Hendrickson had a worrisome thought for his own safety. _Way to be a man Vic... _he thought scowling deeply at himself.

For over an hour he'd been studying her, _it,_ he reminded himself. Watching, observing as much as he could about this thing beside him. _I'd love to put a bullet in it and have done with it... but something tells me that wouldn't put an end to the problem,_ in the back of his mind he could hear Granny and Aunt Lettie in hushed voices, over after-dinner tea with milk and honey talking about who was "puttin' evil" on whom while his father shook his head, peering over both his glasses and the evening newspaper, then later how he would tease momma about her family's 'crazy backwoods bayou superstitions'. Victor could still see his mother lean over to kiss daddy's temple while her fingers played with his hair and her smile spoke softly of pure indulgence. He could almost hear her simply say, _'Yes dear.'_ before heading into the bedroom to put on her nightgown.

_Dad, I hate to break it to you... but there apparently really ARE more things in heaven and on Earth... God help us... _before he realized what happened the hand it wielded struck him soundly with a force he never would have guessed it could possess.

"I am the only GOD you need be concerned with," it said, a rainbow of voices pulling on him from within, trying to spread and thin and tear through him.

--

"Hey... hey wake up..." Tom shook her shoulder gently, his heart thumping just a little hard, wondering for a split second if he shouldn't have taken her to a hospital like Shep wanted to.

"Mmm?" she grunted blinking quickly awake and struggling to sit up.

Tom slid his hand between her shoulder blades and pushed her upright, grimacing at the stiff tackiness and fresh warm wet that had seeped into blanket beneath her.

"Girl you're a wreck... you need some lookin' at," he scowled as Shep strode purposefully from the office and handed him a key for the room beside Sam and Dean's then bent down looking into the back seat.

"How you holdin' up?" he asked her.

"Fine," she breathed sliding out of the back seat and pulling herself to her feet.

Tom closed the door he was standing at and moved quickly around to her side, _what the hell I'm already covered in her blood..._

Laura threw the latch for the trunk and opened her bag, rummaging around until she found what she was looking for.

Tommy and Shep both turned sharply away as she stripped off the remnants of the t-shirt, wadded it up and tossed it into a corner of the trunk.

"Little help..." she grunted passing one of her hoodies to Tom who tried to keep his eyes averted while still helping get her into the damned thing. "For God's sake man I've got a bra on... you look at girls in bikini's right...?" she muttered as Shep snorted back a startled laugh.

"Oh for the love..." she shoved both men away, leaving Tom holding the hoodie as she hobbled alongside the tendril of energy that told her exactly where the man she loved was.

"Alright alright... c'mon now, you wanna give those boys more to be worried about than they already got?" Shep asked as Tom jogged after her and tilted his head with an apologetic and somewhat shy smile while he slid the hoodie around and over her.

Bent low to get the zipper working in the darkness the motel room door behind him opened, a broad and lanky shadow she'd know anywhere stood in the light.

"I thought I heard..." he stopped for a breath, his eyes falling on several black patches against cream that were quickly hidden with Tom's pull on the zipper, "...you guys. Glad you could make it..." Sam stepped back to let Tom usher Laura quickly into the room, followed by Shep jogging right along behind.

"How're you doin'?" Sam asked wrapping his left arm around her and bending down to peck her cheek.

She shook her head, her expression twisted in pain until he took his arm off her shoulders, "You're shot... what happened? Did you run into Hendrickson?" she asked with a passing stroke of his cheek before gimping stiffly to the bed where Dean struggled to push himself up.

"Oh God what happened?" she asked feeling her eyes about to water at the sight of both of them. A quick glance around the room told her he'd brought the supplies inside the barrier, _well at least we won't have to go back outside to soon_.

"Sam sit at the table and take off your shirt," she directed then motioned to the box, "Tom there some suture kits and a box of 4-0 in the box I'm gonna need a couple packs over here," before looking back at Sam, "...is the bullet still in there?" he nodded as she turned back toward the bed and felt warm soft lips against her own. A strong right hand behind her head ensured the moment of tender captivity before he angled his head, his forehead against hers, his mist filmed eyes shined into hers before he stole another taste and laid back, already exhausted again.

"Me too," she nodded tremulously before working up the edge of the tape holding the glut of gauze down.

"Shep you might hafta be my left hand a little here," she muttered as Dean's eyes flicked to her deep purple and blue, sausage-like fingers, "t'sokay... I don't think they're broke, Shep got 'em back in place quick," she assured Dean and even gave them a stiff almost-wiggle with barely a grimace.

Dean nodded wordlessly, his memory slapped viciously back in time to his 13th summer. The one when he'd walked away from the slightest hope of every having his own childhood.

His trigger finger had been dislocated by Azazel and if Shep hadn't stepped in upon his return from the 150 mile solitary journey John had forced him into, as quickly as he had, and snapped the digit back in place, it was probable Dean would have lost it to necrosis.

His eyes flicked to the older man that felt to him, like what he'd always strived to be for Sam. A big brother who could be looked up to, who could be counted on and trusted, and nodded his thanks at the man.

"Laura..." Sam said softly while watching patches of blood start to soak through the hoodie on her back just below her shoulders, while Shep and Tom set about sorting the supplies in the box, each man all too well versed in what needed to be done.

Shaking her head almost imperceptibly, "Tell us what happened after we split up last night while we patch you guys up..." she suggested already immersed in the task of trying to spot the source of the bleeding on Dean's chest.

"You're gonna hafta get it from Sam... I barely remember what was on the pizza," Dean grunted.

"And how the hell did you manage to get yourself shot if it wasn't the fibbie little man?" Tom asked as he cleaned the outside of the wound while Shep worked between him and Laura providing each of them with whatever they called out for.

--

While their bodies were given a position in which to heal, Sam ran through the events of the last day as he knew them. In his telling there were moments when Dean's eyes shot wide open in disbelief, though whether it was because he'd slept through something or for some reason the others present could only think of beginning to fathom, no one quite knew.

As the clock struck midnight and the medical supplies were put away in exchange for supplies with OTHER medicinal purposes, the odd group of five sat back everyone taking a hard earned deep breath.

With fallen soldiers of glass and aluminum piling up on the table and floor Tom and Shep decided it was their turn to divulge bringing out into the light many of the things Bobby had told them as well as what they'd noticed and heard from other hunters since the gates opened just over a year ago.

As the night wore on, they spun tales of abnormal Demonic behavior, captivating the boys they'd known most of their lives as if they were telling tall tales by the campfire.

Laura sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, her half empty bottle of rum capped between her knees, her eyes closed and head lolling forward, _I need to talk with them alone... guys, I'm grateful but go the hell away till I can talk to my boys..._ the thought seemed to meander lazily within her head as awareness gave way to a darkened corridor stretching endlessly back in time, leaving her wondering about roads not taken.

As talk of demons and Igigi subsided, making way for the recapture of healing memories something nagged half forgotten amidst the stories, laughter and release they took from each others company.

Blinking her eyes groggily Laura set aside the bottle between her knees and leaned forward with a tacky sucking sound as her blood patched hoodie peeled free of the paint and she rose to her knees, her right hand on Dean's bed to help push her with a near stumble to her feet. Beneath her hand the bed shook and Dean's eyes slid curiously open.

"S'okay sweetie... go back to sleep..." she rubbed the lump that was his foot beneath the covers and smiled as a couple other things happened at the same time.

"Oh geez..." Sam breathed softly from his chair, his eyes on the bloody outline of her mid-back as it'd been stuck to the wall over the last few hours, then sliding down to the puddle of nearly black satin on the floor. Sam's left arm snaked out smacking Tom's leg to get his attention away from the last few pieces of pizza.

"Oh hell..." Shep grunted moving quickly to the box of medical supplies on the floor.

"S'wrong?" Dean asked pushing himself upright as he came more fully awake.

"Nothing Dean... just lay back and get some rest... Tom 'n Shep're just gonna give me a little hand..." she smiled sliding between the bed and the wall until she was close enough to lean over and bring her lips to his. Her eyes flicked to the two men who'd rescued her, Shep striding into the bathroom with whatever supplies he thought he'd need.

"Guys?" Dean asked, pushing himself upright when she was done kissing him.

"Just a few stitches Dean, nothing to worry about," Tom flicked a quick smile at the hunter.

Laura smiled turning his face to hers, noting the long draw of his eyes to her left side where blood dripped from the hoodie onto the bedspread.

"What the hell?" he half demanded grasping the garment above the area of the soak and raised it and the laden wad of gauze just enough to see bits of blackening meat where he knew far too well the skin used to be ivory, "Aww hell... what's the matter with you!? What did that?" he snarled, "You don't let something like that wait!"

"It's gonna be fine... Shep's gonna whip a few stitches in there and I'll be good as new... there's still a lot to go over before we can figure out anything..." she kissed his forehead, "I'll be fine... you shouldn't worry so much..." she smiled sliding down the bed and backing into the bathroom where he was already setting up the supplies.

"Damn fool girl... boy's right... y'shoulda reminded me... hell I shoulda remembered but still..." he reprimanded as she straddled the toilet, and unzipped the hoodie.

Together they peeled the garment slowly off, trying not to tear off bits of skin or muscle that had become glued to the fibers as the blood coagulated and the body tried to do what it could to heal the horrible rends in her flesh.

Shep tossed the thing into the bathtub and Laura turned resting her head on her forearms over the toilet tank.

"Don't you start too... those men in there needed some time with you and Tom. They needed the solidity you brought them. I can sew em up and dig out bullets, but you guys have a history they NEEDED to touch," she sighed.

"I need a chair... I'll be right back," Shep stepped out for one of the dining table chairs and returned leaving the door open behind him. She was right about Sam and Dean needing to touch base with him and Tom, but he'd seen the looks on the Winchester brothers' faces when they'd all first come in, and he knew, even if she didn't, that somewhere along the passage of the last three years, she'd become important to those men out there.

"She's waited this long, gimme a minute..." Dean grumbled sliding into the bathroom and closing the door behind himself.

His eyes fell on the tears in her upper back, just under the curve of her traps and he nodded, still able to feel that thorny hook in his own flesh, "Gotcha on both sides huh?" he asked without having to.

"Yeah... no nails though..." she smiled pushing herself straight up and looking into those meltaway eyes that brought the memory of feelings to her, "Dean..." _I love you... I'm sorry, I wish I could take it away from you... make it better, I wish you never had to feel the hurt that leaves that look on your face, yeah the one you're wearing right now... I'm sorry to be the reason that look is on your face... I'm not so egomaniacal to think I'm responsible for any of this but, I wish it wasn't you, or Sam. _She bit the insides of her lips and motioned him closer.

He slid along the counter accepting her invitation to advance, _Please let me come in. Don't shut me out okay? Please? Let me know you're still in there and let me share what I've got with you okay? 'Cause... what else is there right? Even Sammy's getting it... he's been so... God... he makes me so proud... he may never know how much I respect and love him...sheesh he IS my brother... but maybe one day you'll tell him cause I KNOW you know... will you live long enough to tell him for me? Please stop trying to die Laura... am I really THAT painful to be around? Am I THAT hard to love? _and in the back of his mind, _'Mom, Dad, Sam (brought back doesn't count, he still died), Jim, Caleb,' God how many more?_

On the seat she gasped, a wave of hot desperation falling over her before she twisted, snaking her arms around the man's waist, drawing him to her. Her lips finding purchase on his tummy, "Whatever you're thinking please don't... it hurts..." she muttered against his skin, tasting him, breathing him.

He turned slowly lowering himself, with great and visible agony to his knees, then once beside her again grasped her chin gently, "Tell me..." he asked softly leaving an explosion of awareness inside her.

_He doesn't have to KNOW... he FEELS...,_ "Ahh...I don't...I'm..." she looked into his eyes, _even if I COULD, I couldn't lie to you..._ "I'm so afraid..." she gasped letting the tears rain down, letting him have them. Giving him the only thing she had that was worth anything at all.

"Me too," he nodded soaking up the moment, from the warmth of her breath on his chest to the smell of her hair.

"I don't wanna be..." _killable, hunt-worthy, in-human... but what I've done, what I've forged a path toward... tell me you'll do the deed if it comes to it... I can't ask you to, I remember how much it hurt you when John told you that you might have to kill Sam, and how much it fractured you when Sam asked you to do the same if he became... someTHING worth killing. Sam would do it though... but I can't ask HIM either... Maybe Tom or Shep, they'd do it... yeah... I'll make sure to talk with them later... good._ She sighed, _That helps... okay then...time to let you in on what little I could get. _

"Dean... You and Sam... you guys are in trouble... this whole thing's coming right at you both..."

"The marauder?" he asked leaning a little against the counter, something inside telling him that no matter what information was coming tonight, there would be far too much that wasn't on its way.

She nodded, "Remember what you told me about Enki? What you found out during the Turnbull case?" she asked.

Dean nodded, "About the line of patrons right?"

"Yeah... Enki was the first incarnation of your patron... he had siblings and children and there were... oh God..." she grunted breathing hard against the awakening pains in her body.

"The marauder was called Nergal... he's the God of Death..."

"Nergal?" Dean snickered, "Isn't ... what's his face... that little guy that bugs Garfield all the time?"

"That's Nermal... but this guy isn't cute or cuddly... and from what I could get... he's gonna be gunning for any and every human being under the patronage of Enki or any of his offspring OR incarnations...and you and Sam are at the TOP of the list."

"Huh? Why?" he shook his head, "And why didn't you say something sooner?" he asked watching her eyes flick to the door, "Shep and Tom?" he asked.

"You guys already have other hunters after you who think YOU opened the gate last year, then there's the ones like Gordon who think Sam's the Anti-Christ incarnate and want to kill him, and you've got the feds on your case..."

"Yeah but these guys are solid... they're family..."

"It's your choice to tell them or not... not mine...point is..."

"Point is why the hell is this guy after us too?" he asked pushing himself to his feet with a deeply held groan before wetting down a washcloth and starting to absently wipe the smears and streaks from her back, "Isn't Sam's that Ete guy?" he asked.

"Etemenanki the mortal name of Marduk who was Enki's..."

"Son," he smiled faintly as a sunburst of warmth exploded in his low belly. He could feel a happily squealing and kicking child in his hands as he held both his woman and his son together, watching his baby's belly grow round and firm while he drank of his mother's milk.

"Holy crap..." he groaned feeling blood rushing painfully to his loins as the memory of that vision of Enki's life filled him with lusty need and longing.

"I remember... but..." he groaned forcing the memory away, "What's this guy's beef? And isn't 'Death' supposed to be neutral? I mean all things considered?" he asked.

"Death, as it is incarnate in OUR universe is supposed to be a neutral being... this being is not from our universe... and apparently he seems to have inherited a LOT of his father's traits," she sighed.

"And his father is...?" Dean drawled waiting for it.

"You know how the universe requires that balance to stay in motion? Everything has an opposite, and everything contains its own opposite...?" she grimaced as he dabbed the cloth over the raw skinless patch of muscle over the left side of her upper traps.

"Yeah..."

"Two sides to every coin... yin and yang?"

"Uh huh..."

She stiffened with a sharp intake of breath as terry cloth hit exposed nerve, "Sorry," Dean winced for her.

"S'okay... Yeah, Enki's a good guy... his brother... not so much."

--

tbc.

Please R&R

(a little slow, sorry, but necessary)

Thanks.

sifi.


	12. Chapter 12

Twilight – chpt 12

by: sifi

--

"...that's pretty much all it allowed the demon inside her to know... anything more I'd have to get from the abomination itself..." she slurred leaning heavily on her arms as Dean and Shep worked together to finish patching her up.

"I'm not sure I get the connection..." Shep shook his head.

"The important thing to know is this thing wants to hurt anyone associated with Enki and his side of the family, and since Sam and Dean are what they are... they're top on the list," she sighed barely able to stay upright.

"And just WHAT are these boys? Huh lil miss? They're just men..." Shep half growled, not liking the nervous twitchy feeling in his belly that came with referring to these men he loved like his own as anything other than human.

A possibly accidental quick jerk on the 4-0 brought a weak hiss of air through her teeth, and a hand to his shoulder, "Easy there Shepard... she's been through a lot to get what little information she did," Dean frowned leaning on the wall so she could lean on him, "Were you able to... get a _feel_ maybe for the why of it all?" he asked.

She shook her head then looked at the senior hunter, every glint of challenge hers for the seeing, "None of this is anyone's fault. No more than your gold-green eyes were your choice," she breathed before leaning to the right, feeling the strength of the eldest Winchester beside her, "I'd kill to take it all away..." she muttered meeting the mans' eyes, knowing full well as he did in that instant that both of them would do what ever was necessary to ensure that things went as they believed they should.

"Wha'd'ya know about those Igigi things? Sam can see 'em... why?" he asked narrowing those very same green-gold's at her while Dean leaned against the wall, his hand absently stroking through her hair as Shep started the last series of stitches that would seal up the posterior aspect of the snaggled hole in her side.

"He can see 'em cause I kissed him..." she muttered almost unintelligibly.

Her head and shoulder pushed deeper into Dean's belly, drawing his arm protectively around her as the last of the tension left her body giving her over to restful sleep.

"C'mon Shep give the girl a break... she's on our side remember..." Dean sighed stroking her head.

Shepard would never let THEM know it, and he wasn't even sure if Tom knew it or not, _not that I'd up'n tell him anyway, gotta keep my little man's hands as far from the dirt as possible,_ he thought casting a glance at his nephew. _Wish you coulda been MY son... well, close enough now aren't we youngun?_ he smiled returning to his previous train of thought.

Over the last year, and on two different jobs, Shep had come across two separate hunters (and heard of a half dozen more), each one overflowing with some fool notion that John's boys were hot on the Devil's own 'wish' list, and therefore must be something other than mere men caught in the heart of something neither of them could control. He'd tried to dissuade those same men from hunting the boys, but in the end neither hunter listened, so neither hunter lived. "Son don't you tell me you don't know what's been goin on out there this past..." he started with a glance at Dean. _Bet if I'da had a little brother he woulda been just like you... least I'd hope he woulda been... you're a good man Dean Winchester... and you did real good raisin' up Sammy too... John was always proud of you both, I hope you know that._

"I KNOW Shep, Sam knows, Bobby knows, we ALL KNOW... but you _don't_... okay? You and Tom...I know y'all're just looking after Sam and me as best as you can, but there's been things you guys don't know alright? There's been..." he stopped feeling his breath close in his throat with the vision of Sam sitting on the edge of his bed, pressing his gun beneath his chin, tears falling in fat splatters against his pants. The belly dropping sense that he might well have been awakened by the sound of a gunshot and his baby brother's brains hitting the motel room wall; that he might have awoken to find his baby gone. Everything that meant anything to him just... gone... IF she hadn't sensed something, IF she hadn't woken up... IF she hadn't soothed the gun out of his hand and given the youngest Winchester a safe haven for the release of the burden that sought so hard to suffocate him. "We've... Sam 'n me... we've looked over that edge a couple times in the last couple years... and whatever higher power there is or even MAY be... well the _hand_ it's sent to keep us from falling... it's been hers..." he explained sternly.

Shep tore his eyes from the wound, his countenance twisted in confusion and struggling against disbelief, _did things get THAT bad for them? How come I didn't know? Why didn't Bobby say something? Why didn't THEY say something? _He noted the gentle and supportive circle of the eldest Winchester's arms on the woman, and watched those fingers slide absently through her hair. He'd seen the relief when they entered with her in tow, hell he'd even seen the kiss and it hadn't dawned on him. _Well I'll be damned... Shepard McGregor you can be blind as a bat sometimes y'jaded old bastard... _

"So can you see those fugly bastards too then boy?" he asked tearing his eyes away from the blatant evidence of the torture he'd recently suffered and returning to the task at hand.

Dean shook his head, "Uh uh... we've figured pretty much it's gotta have something to do with psychic abilities and since Sam's the family spoon-bender he had the circuitry in place already, it only needed to be activated."

"With a kiss?" Shep smirked, "I don't know if I'd like my girl kissin' my brother, could be a little awkward if y'know what I mean..."

Dean chuckled, "You don't have a brother, Tom's Lizzie's kid... besides it wasn't like that..."

"Well gimme the lowdown young man, don't leave an _old_ man hangin'..." he admonished as Tom and Sam each came and leaned in the doorway.

"The cult or Alex?" Dean asked meeting Sam's eyes.

Sam sighed watching Shep work. The hot streak of shame he still felt for having been bested wouldn't let him look at his big brother. "A little over a year ago I got jumped and held captive by this freaky ass cult. The Igigi that have been trapped in our world feed on human pain, vice, and misery, things we would consider personal 'demons' y'know?" _I let you down Dean... again... getting captured like a novice... dude why didn't you just let me stay at Stanford... none of this would've ever happened..._

Shep and Tom nodded, Sam's eyes flicked over Dean then darted away as his chin fell to his chest, "So these cultists... they uh..." he stopped and cleared his throat, his eyes focused on his wrists where there had, for a time been tell-tale evidence of his torment. He swallowed again trying to open up the passage enough to let the words out, "...they uh..." he shook his head.

"They tortured him," Dean choked. The image of Sam hanging by his wrists, drugged and bound with strips of flesh torn wide and bleeding burned into his memory, _I coulda lost you Sammy... _"They used his pain to get one of 'em free, like a gatekeeper y'know?"

A curious glance passed between the two elder hunters before Dean continued, "Then that one used us," he motioned between himself and Laura, "...to open a doorway between worlds that let the rest of them out. So it was kind like another Devil's gate, except without an actual physical construct to open," Dean shook his head, "We... had no clue... not a... _damned_ clue..."

"Huh...how long ago was that?" Tom asked as a light-bulb seemed to go on over his and his uncle's heads.

"About a year, year and a half ago... just a few months before Jake opened the gate wouldn't you say Sam?" Dean asked.

"So that musta been what that little bastard was talkin' about..." Shep muttered watching Tom nod as another piece of the puzzle was put into place.

Sam nodded and breathed softly, "I couldn't stop 'em..." with his eyes glued to the floor.

Tom knew the look on the youngest Winchester's face. Whether he was 2 or 26 that look of impotent frustration was never going to change. With a smirk he rubbed brisk circles into the boy's back, "S'not your fault little man," he assured with a smile.

"Thank you... that's what I keep telling him," Dean sighed tilting his head down to catch his little brother's eyes, hoping once more that he'd get the point.

"So... what 'little bastard' was talking about what?" Dean asked.

"Wait a minute... these things are inter-dimensional?" Tom asked looking between the boys, and then back to his uncle.

"Yeah,"

"Yep," the Winchesters nodded together.

"Keep going..." Tom urged but turned back into the main room and booted up the laptop.

"What 'little bastard'? Shep?" Dean asked.

"Story first, theories later..." Tom called.

Dean and Sam met eyes, shrugged and Dean continued before Sam could force himself to relive it all in technicolor, "...well those things were having a grand old feast courtesy of Sam and his overblown sense of guilt and responsibility..."

Sam's head snapped up, a defensive frown twisting his lips as he countered, "It was also pretty much right after you told me what dad's last message was, and after what that thing did to you guys wearing _my_ face... and I couldn't lift a finger to help...how was I _supposed_ to feel Dean?" Sam started to explain as Shep looked at him curiously, "It kinda traded places with me... To this day, exactly how I got out is still hazy... I'm not sure..."

"But anyway..." Dean prodded.

"Yeah so... things didn't exactly go as planned with the Dryad either... seems while I was off exploring the 'what might have beens'... I got body-jacked by a demon..."

"Dryad?"

"Dryad?" Tom and Shep asked together.

"Yeah she, well she does this thing... it's a kiss y'know... what is it with kissing?" Dean scratched his head, "Not that I mind, mind you..."

"She showed me several different ways that all this could have played out, or maybe _has_ in other worlds I don't know...either of you ever been kissed by a Dryad... it's... whoo, it's definitely... wow..." Sam shook his head.

"And without his consciousness present to try and fight the demon out, it was about to get a pretty solid hold, coulda locked him out of himself for good y'know?" Dean jumped in.

"So Laura did this Celtic thing... and when it had got a firm hold inside, she drew down a cone of power and drew the thing out of me..."

"A cone of power?" Tom asked.

"Yeah, the ritual gave Sam her immunity to them as well as opening him up to be able to see them..." Dean finished.

"And what about you?" Shep asked the older brother.

"A REAL cone of power?" Tom questioned.

"Dean apparently has a natural immunity to them," Sam finished, "According to what Alex wrote there are some people they are just not capable of feeding off of..."

"Yeah a REAL cone of power... the kind that hasn't rocked our little corner of the cosmos for a dozen centuries or so..." Dean clarified and looked hastily back and forth from Tom to Shep then to Sam who was also watching them with guarded curiosity. _They all know something... what don't I know?_ "What don't I know?" he asked boring his eyes into Sam's.

Sam frowned as he shook his head in a pathetic attempt at denial as Tom asked loudly, "Hey little man...didn't you tell Bobby you saw them EAT a demon?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded glad of the distraction.

"Sam?" Dean asked sternly then noting the look on his brothers face grabbed Tom's eyes from across the room, "Tommy? Talk to me..." just as Shep called out.

"Hey Tom you reckon that's what was so weird down in that pit?"

Catching Dean's attention with the prospect of more 'weirdness', "What'd'ya mean?" he asked.

"Yeah I reckon... makes about as much sense as anything else..." Tom muttered.

Shep explained what they'd seen in the pit that gave them both the shivers while he worked a roll of kling around the woman's waist to hold the gauze in place over the fresh stitches. He told them how the demon dust they'd seen rolling out of Aileen just seemed to disappear into thin air as they watched.

Sam nodded, "Yeah they were probably feeding on it. They were all over the area I found Dean... in fact that's HOW I found him if you get my meaning..."

"I thought you said they can't feed off y'all?" Shep asked.

"Not directly... but when pain is unleashed they _can_ feed off that..." Sam explained.

Shep looked up, "Your bed?" he asked the eldest brother while sliding one hand under her knees and the other behind her back.

"Yeah, thanks Shep..." Dean smiled following him out into the main room where the seasoned hunter laid her on her back on Dean's bed then cursed mightily as he caught sight of the numerous burns.

"Holy crap!" Dean grimaced noting one hole on her forearm that seemed to have been burnt repeatedly until even the flash of bone he saw appeared blackened.

"No wonder she's out so cold..." Sam breathed.

"Damnit... forgot about them..." he sighed frustrated, "I swear I never seen folks take such a beating as you all have... what the hell happened to you anyway youngun?" he asked of Dean.

The elder brother swallowed hard taking the supplies necessary out of Sheps' hands and sitting on the bed beside his passed out girl, "Barbed wire cat-o-nine tails..."

"...and a nail fettish..." Sam scowled softly.

"Oooh like that board we saw?" he glanced at Tom as Dean nodded.

"Got the damned thing stuck up my foot man... hurt like a BITCH..." he scowled.

"Good lord son I'm sorry..." Shep groaned as Dean shrugged, working with Sam's help to clean and bandage the weeping burns on their friend.

"So what're you working on so diligently there Tom?" he asked flopping into the chair next to his nephew.

"I'm lookin' up Enki's family tree... we gotta try and figure out just who's who in the zoo," he sighed and cracked open another beer.

"Bobby sent me a butt load of information on the Babylonian and Akkadian pantheons through the centuries... Search for Nergal and tell me what the hell can kill or banish this son of a bitch," Sam scowled and dabbed triple antibiotic ointment on a torn open burn between her bellybutton and her hip.

--

"Ahhh yes... the guard is down... the barrier is there but the veil is thinned... go there!" it hissed pointing.

He turned, _No...no... don't do this... don't MAKE me do this! I didn't want to WIN this way!_

--

"Uhn...NYAHHH!" Sam's alto burst into the room, his body folded in half, head slamming into his hands while his knees buckled, bringing him to the floor for a split second before his six and a half feet jumped ramrod straight and flew into the far wall.

"Sam!"

"Sammy!" Shep and Tom called out, rising to their feet but not fast enough.

"Oooaghuh!" Dean howled, his head also slamming into his hands in agony at the same time Laura's eyes opened and she leaped to her feet to stand beside Tom and Shep.

An explosion of percussive force ruptured through the room pinning each of the five squirming in agony to the walls as the door flew open to reveal Special Agent Hendrickson, and behind him, a small eyeless pale shadow.

"Break the line," it ordered.

Willfully trying to resist the order given him, Victor was nonetheless forced to his knees in the doorway, his hand reached out shaking violently, as if he were little more than a child's toy being forced into motions it was never meant to make. His eyes scanned the room, lighting on each of the five people present, taking in the damage this malevolence had wrought on three of them. _I have no clue who you two are... but I'm sorry you're stuck in this..._ he thought glancing over Tom and Shep. With a flick of his hand the salt line was broken and the abomination stepped into the room.

--

tbc.

Please R&R.

Thanks sifi


	13. Chapter 13

Twilight – chpt 13

by: sifi

--

"No!" Laura hollered as a bevy of cries tore the air and those empty sockets turned to her, boring deep into every corner and crevasse of her being. Pinned to the wall, with her focus completely on the one person who might yet be able to stop what she feared was about to happen, the curious looks and garbled pleas from the men in the room went unnoticed.

_Victor Hendrickson... Please! Don't do this..._ she shot the plea into his mind as a bubble of blood burst out of her nose.

"I can't..." his head wagged tightly as he forced the words painfully out.

"He is MINE..." the abomination's layered voice told them all.

Laura closed her eyes, a whimper in her throat as the thing inside the child approached, those luminous orange-y sockets almost crackling with hot, electrical ferocity.

_Oh God... Sam I hope to hell you know one of those rites by heart by now... For the love of ANYTHING HOLY... start chanting..._ she thought randomly before her attention returned to the crackling vessel of energy.

"You have cost me dearly..." it glared standing before her. With a motion from the child's head S.A. Hendrickson crawled to her side on all fours fighting each step with everything he had, and still unable to resist.

"Sounds like I'm doing my job then..." she half smiled.

_Hendrickson you HAVE to fight this! Please! You don't know what it can do!_ she thought toward the man feeling a fresh droplet tumble down her mouth to her chin. Her ability to influence had never been meant to be used from a distance, without a direct physical line to the person, but ever since the Cult-incident when she'd been forced to push the limits she'd discovered it was possible, if blazingly painful.

"_I'm trying!... help me! Please!"_ she felt him plead.

A streak of white hot shot diagonally from her shoulder to the opposite hip as her skin exploded open in a nearly surgically precise line. The cut moved through burns bringing out a stuttering scream of surprise and pain as more blood ran in heavy paint-like drips over the lip of the rend. A glance down brought a crazy thought as Laura watched the material of her bra turn red, _Well hell... at least I'm not flashing room..._ but despite the glimpse of sarcasm, the screams that remained inside drowned out the protestations from all four men, as well as the furious 'push' of will that came from the FBI agent.

In the moment of Hendrickson's glaring anger, Laura caught a flicker of something powerful and shiny within him though partially obscured by a wall of slithering amorphous darkness. She met eyes with the federal agent and smiled, _If you let that bitch kill you Victor, we both die..._ she warned watching curiosity twist his face.

"What to do... what to do with you...?" it pondered, twisting the child's lips in an obscenely dark visage.

Laura took a deep breath and closed her eyes, letting her chin fall to her chest, the blood from her nose, now a small rivulet that fed into delta that had been opened over her body, as she fed out a line of her own will to the man on the floor, coupling whatever strength either of them might be able to muster.

With another backwards glance at its hound the marauder sneered, "Peel the skin from the emissary's body," then turned back as Hendrickson's head bobbed up and down, his eyes on the floor while drops of blood from his own nose splattered onto the carpet.

"Your flesh will be my victory banner..." it hissed leaning forward, sliding the fingers of the child into the space between the slice edges, those slim digits working back and forth, breaking through the connective tissue while the emissary screamed and cried, her contact with consciousness uncertain.

Victor rose jerkily to his feet, as if he were little more than a marionette with tangled strings and stood beside the abomination, the lower half of his face covered in blood, his liquid coffee colored eyes peering with unnecessary apologies into Laura's.

"Do as I say..." the abomination ordered, grasping his wrist.

Smoke rose into the air with the contact and the sound of flesh sizzling moved between the triangle of bodies while the other four cried out and continued to fight their captivity.

Despite his struggles the marauder angled Victor's hand and slid the tips of his fingers between the emissary's skin and muscle where it had just opened up a pocket.

"Skin it," the creature ordered already turning its attention toward the Chosen and the Champion both of whom abruptly ceased their noises and tried not to drown in the memory of another situation not all that much different, that neither man had forgotten over the last 3 years.

Victor grimaced as his fingers made contact with the woman and felt a sharp crackle that seemed to electrify him. His eyes looked into hers as the marauder moved across the room toward the Winchester men.

Laura smiled weakly, _Now... don't let that thing touch those boys..._ she nodded cocking the side of her mouth up as the sight of the newly freed FBI agent swam in her vision.

He looked over his shoulder, took a deep breath and moved cautiously.

--

_Oh man... not again... _ Dean sighed inside as his back hit the wall and he looked around lamenting what was about to happen to so many of the few 'family' members they had left. His eyes fell to Victor Hendrickson on the floor, trying to fight against the sinister hold the marauder had on him, _Good luck with that dude... seriously... _ he thought trying to wrench and pry himself from the wall as the walking obscenity approached Laura first.

It appeared that the marauder was speaking but Dean couldn't hear what was going on, though he had to admit it might have been for the sound of his own body rushing in his ears, a quick questioning glance at Sam told him that the youngest Winchester didn't hear anything either.

A second later Sam cocked his head to the side as the color washed from his face and his lips pursed in thought. _I know a couple of 'em by heart now... _

A spray of blood slanted through the air as Laura's skin split open and the abomination stepped closer to her while the sounds of all four men protesting filled the air.

Dean watched his little brother struggle then grow still, watched him control his breathing, and could almost feel him putting something together in his head, _Sammy whatever you're gonna do... don't you open that doorway if you're not sure what it's gonna do to you in the end... don't you dare do it little brother..._ he thought frantically wondering how they were going to get out of this one, and if he was right and Sam was about to dip into those powers that slept inside himself how it would affect him in the long run. He didn't want to lose anyone, not Laura who if her intel was right, knew full well that she too would be on this thing's hit-list; and certainly not Tom and Shep who'd been dragged into this for no good reason at all, but everyone present knew one thing for certain, that in the end, the only person he _couldn't_ live without was Sam.

A second later his bowed down mouth relaxed as Sam's eyes closed and his head began to move ever so slightly, as it always had when he found an internal rhythm or was practicing something he'd memorized. _Preamble or state Capitols dude?_ Dean wondered with almost a smirk, _Let's just hope it's the most powerful one we've got...Thank GOD for that memory of yours Sam..._ he remembered when they'd been stuck in their cells in Eddy Jay's pit, Sam calling up a mental image of that page in John's journal that held the rite they'd used on the Phantom Traveler, _dude just not that one okay? Please..._ he thought remembering what a disaster that had turned into. The malevolence that had been Edward Simons had used them to make himself corporeal, and with a little help from his deal with the dark-side, the brothers Winchester had given him exactly what he'd needed to achieve demon-hood.

To his left his little brother's eyes opened, his head came up and he began to whisper just as the thing inside the child thrust that spear-like hand under the edge of one of the slices of skin leaving Laura screaming and crying while her head and feet slammed the wall behind her, maybe trying to pry herself free.

To his credit, despite the 'I'm gonna hurl,' look on his little brothers' face Sam quickly stopped his protesting and returned to his nearly silent chanting while Dean watched the marauder grasp Hendrickson's wrist and thrust his hand into Laura's flesh where it's own had been only seconds ago.

"Skin it," the marauder ordered turning those glowing sockets on Dean and Sam now.

Behind the child Dean saw Hendrickson rise up straighter, his hand leaving the wound to light on her shoulder while his and Laura's eyes met, _Whatever's going on... please finish it fast..._ the eldest Winchester prayed silently.

The abomination stood between the brothers, its focus unmistakably on the youngest.

_Oh don't you dare... so help me..._ Dean promised furiously as he watched his little brother stutter to a stop. He swallowed hard but quickly started to chant breathlessly again. Dean's eyes flicked to the far side of the room, to Tom and Shep against the wall, his eyes barely glancing over Laura, unable to bear the sight.

"What is it with you demonic sons of bitches huh?" he sneered, "Y'always go after the kids huh? Can't handle the adults right?"

His throat ran dry as its focus flicked over him, washing him in penetrative searing heat, the kind he only remembered feeling once before while in the hands of a genuine ogre. Then the heat was gone and beside him Sam began to sweat.

"No! Don't!" he started and bit the protest back as the corners of the child's mouth tilted upward and his little brothers' words grew peppered with grunts.

"You will not hurt me," it smiled almost sweetly at the youngest Winchester as it raised the child's hand before him.

Sam's bell-like alto howl filled the air as the marauder drew its hand back toward itself and with it, also appeared to draw something from the young man.

Transparent color, almost like an apparition seemed to smear forward through him. As his howl rose in pitch his audible agony unleashed a flurry of renewed effort among his friends.

Sam shook his head back and forth, his lament taking the form of denial as he gritted his teeth and spat a stream of frantic Latin through them.

Dean watched the smile falter from the child's face as whatever it was trying to draw from Sam seemed to snap out of its grip and his baby brother seemed to breathe that much easier.

As they often do, several things happened at the same time. The air in the room turned hot enough to sear earthly lungs, Sam finished and re-started the ritual, Laura fell off the wall to her knees on the floor and Hendrickson pulled the trigger on his gun just a second too late.

Before their eyes, the body of the child seemed to fly apart in a tightly contained cloud of particles before joining back together after the bullet sailed through the temporarily in-cohesive creature to shatter the window and spend itself harmlessly in the night.

Despite the now open window, no relief from the heat was to be had, instead as the marauder turned with its empty gaze somehow moving back and forth between Laura's crumpled form and Hendrickson's frozen one.

Sweat poured down their faces as all but the rapidly heating air itself fell still. All eyes turned to Victor Hendrickson who appeared to be locked in a life or death struggle with his own gun and the hand that held it. His will and desire to live pitted solely against the destructive mania of an entity whose origin he could not begin to fathom.

His body trembled, quaking in place while his arm, also shaking with resistance swung violently until the muzzle of his Federal Issue piece was pressed firmly against his temple.

"Oh God..." he gasped unable to stop his finger from applying slow steady pressure to the trigger.

Across the room the eyes he found to hold on to, the eyes he gave permission to share the 'everything' that moved through his mind at this moment belonged oddly enough though not really surprisingly, to the very man it was his mission to hunt and bring to justice. Again, not surprisingly, he knew that the man behind those eyes understood it all.

Laura flicked her gaze to Sam and barked "Now!" just as the shot rang out and Victor fell backwards, a three inch long; centimeter wide trough in his temple.

She rose to all fours as the marauder loosed a cry before the child's molecules flew apart fleeing through the window as the very air where it had just stood roared into a ball of flame that quickly began to feed on the air in the room as four bodies thumped to the floor.

Tom grabbed Laura, Shep grabbed the supplies and Sam slung the unconscious agent over his shoulder while Dean salvaged the computer.

With concentrated haste they fled the room into the parking lot and stood staring in shock.

Tears slid unnoticed down Dean's face as memories of another night, an entire little-brother-ago, when fire stole the world from the Winchester men steamrollered over him without the slightest hesitation, as if in fact it didn't even know he was there.

Tommy and Shep, the most clear headed of the group regained composure quickly, dispersing the supplies into the cars.

Shep helped Sam lower Hendrickson gently to the ground as people started emerging from their rooms, "I'll stay with him and get the story in place then meet you boys the usual way," he told Sam softly.

"He's a fed... he's not gonna..." Sam started to protest but was cut off.

"He's a fed that just almost got his own slug in his head after doin' time as some inter-dimensional bitch's lap dog... you think he's gonna jeopardize his livelihood and his future just to pull a Mulder? He'll stick with the story little man, don't you worry about that..." Shep insisted.

Several feet away at the trunk of Laura's car Tom wrapped the woman's red covered torso tightly in a towel, then secured her in the back seat as Sam, with far too much ease maneuvered Dean toward the Impala with the sound of sirens blowing toward them from the east.

--

tbc.

Please R&R

Thanks.

sifi.


	14. Chapter 14

Twilight – chpt 14

by: sifi

--

"No."

"Listen..."

"NO! NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!" she yelled frantically clawing at the back of the seat, "...don't do this... don't... please..." she gasped back a small sob as the swollen and agonized fingers of her left hand lost their grip, snapping back to drop her onto the floor between the back seat and the front of the vehicle. "Tommy please..." she breathed through the tears that simply wouldn't stop coming.

"Please... don't make me go away..." she breathed, _don't take me away from them... I can help them... I know I can..._ "... I can do something... I can help... I can save them. I can! There's pain and I can make it go away! I PROMISE! PLEASE...!" _No you can't. God forbid you tell him a truth... you can't do shit... why don't you tell him THAT truth? Huh? ... there's not a single thing you can do to change what's happening, you can't stop it, you don't know what it is ... why don't you just sit back here with me? Sit back... take a taste of this... yeah...there you go... _

"_What is it?" _

_Remember Twin Peaks? _

"_Yeah..."_

_It's pain... and suffering... _

"_What?"_

_Ooooh yeah... his agony, his anguish... if you think about it... if you close your eyes and let yourself taste it...ooooauuuahh please... let yourself... there you go... open up now... taste, breathe... drink... relish... thick and heady. Salty and heavy... it's..._

"_Dean?! No..."_

_Yes... breathe him in... _

"_No!"_

_Yes... breathe... taste... feel... thick and warm, salty and heavy on the back of our tongue... he was delicious... he's a fount... all the things..._

"_NO!... DON'T YOU TOUCH HIM!"_

_Laughter, light, laden and heavy in her ears rang out. _

_I have touched him in ways and places you would never want to know Emissary... I have tasted his pain, drunk myself to bliss on the fear of his agonies... I have sailed over the ages on the wings of his despair... I know him in ways you never will._

_And he will forever remember ME as the one who brought him to extremes even when the sound of your name brings him naught more than a passing shrug. _

Tom's eyes moved again to the rear view mirror as she struggled to push herself up onto the back seat from the floor where she'd fallen. He frowned deeply as she stopped her argument with him in mid protest and seemed to fall into delirium, or at worst, go a little mad as she alternately appeared to listen to something inside, then to argue against it.

He jumped when she yelled, "No! Don't you touch him!" and wondered if a hospital for the body would be her last stop or if she'd wind up somewhere else in the end.

His cornflower blue eyes darkened to sapphire as water layered over them when he thought about what he'd seen. _You boys've been fighting things like THAT for the last two years and we haven't known? Why didn't you tell us? We would've helped..._ his cheeks burned with shame at the thought of how easy he and Shep had it, especially in light of what Sam and Dean had divulged earlier this evening.

In the back seat their friend was now wedged between the backrest and the door, her eyes closed, her expression pinched with one brand of pain or another, and her chest heaving with rough drawn breaths.

"We're gonna get you taken care of lil'miss, don't you worry... and the boys'll take good care of each other... I promise..." he sighed into the rear view mirror and pulled to a halt behind a surprisingly long line of glaring red tail lights. "Wonder what's goin' on up there..." he muttered as the back door flew open and his passenger stumbled out into the night disappearing into the trees that flanked the roadside, leaving behind a blood stained towel and nothing else.

"What the hell! Laura!" Tom shouted throwing the car into park and pinning the place he watched a faint flicker of white disappear, to the forefront of his memory.

"Son of a bitch! Freakin' stupid crazy ass woman... what the hell's the matter with you!" he grunted angrily then pulled the car to the shoulder of the road, cut the engine, locked the doors and rummaged in the trunk, "Dean's gonna kill me..." he groaned as he slipped a gun into the waistband of his pants, a flask of holy water into a pocket, and a small flashlight into another then took off into the woods.

--

"Just toss some stitches into it and be done with it..." Victor looked from the EMT to Shep McGregor.

"Dude, you need a hospital..." Shep grunted then looked at the EMT, "Take a walk kid..." he motioned toward the parking lot, his manner and tone making an argument an impossibility as the EMT took several steps back then walked around toward the front of the ambulance.

"You listen to me..." Shep started as did Hendrickson.

"Whatever the hell's going on here..."

"NO! You LISTEN! You're done! Period! S.A. Victor Hendrickson's OUT OF THIS as of NOW..." Shep leaned in, his anger almost as tangible as the marauder's, especially to Hendrickson's recently heightened perceptions.

"You been some evil ho-bag's lap dog for at least two days... y'almost got your own bullet in your head 'cause of it... now you listen here... a man like you's got ONE mission here... ONE job in the war that's going on, and you better make no mistake buddy boy, we can NOT afford to lose this war..." he stopped and looked into the agent's eyes, "Do you believe what I'm sayin' here man?" he asked.

As the Federal Agent filled his lungs, his eyes spoke loud and clear even before he nodded, "Yeah... I get it...so what's my job as you see it?" he asked suspiciously, part of him certain of what was coming.

"Your job little man, is to let those boys and even that girl do THEIR job... do you understand me?"

"...thought it might be something like that..." he groaned but smiled loosely, he couldn't help but like this man beside him. He'd always been drawn to the light inside people, and because of that he'd always been able to spot the darkness inside them too. _Which is one of the reasons those Winchesters have been so fascinating... why the numbers just didn't add up._

"What're you all gonna do now? That _thing_ got away..." he asked.

"Yeah it did..." Shep nodded but smiled, "...but it ain't goin too far..."

"How're you gonna stop it?" he asked.

Shep shook his head, "I don't know... but I'm sure as hell not gonna let it hurt those boys," he dropped a hand onto the agents shoulder, "How about you? You got your story fixed in your head?"

"I will by the time I need it... chasing a perp, wrestling with the gun... accidental discharge... it happens..."

"Can your record handle that?" Shep asked.

"Does it matter?" he asked with a spocked eyebrow.

"Not really," Shep smiled openly, he had to admit to himself, even though this man before him had given those boys nothing but trouble over the last two years, he really did like him.

Victor chuckled easily, "Yeah I didn't think so... but yeah..." he turned meeting those green-gold eyes again, "You're going to meet up with 'em aren't you?" he asked.

"Eventually," Shep nodded.

Victor dropped his chin to his chest, letting his head nod a couple times before looking back up at this man he wanted to see as an ally. _Aunt Lettie always said there were bigger evils than man could know out there...is there more that I can do?_ he wondered hating the idea of sitting on the sidelines. What Shep had said was true, since that abomination's first grasping of his psyche he'd sensed that the time had come. That the world these past couple days was different than it had been in all the millennia before, and he knew his belly told him that disaster was only a heartbeat away.

"If..." he started then sighed, "... when the time comes... and the lines are face to face..." he gulped wondering if he sounded as crazy as he felt. His hand dashed into his jacket pocket then held out a card.

Shep nodded with a grin and took the piece of paper, sliding it into his wallet with a silent nod of commiseration.

Special Agent Victor Hendrickson smiled easily back, his offering accepted as he motioned outward toward the dark night, "You better get going, catch up with those kids, see what you can do..."

"Ayup," Shep nodded, "We square?" he asked knowing they were.

"Yep. See ya 'round Mr. McGregor."

"Shep," he corrected extending his hand to the Fed.

"Vic," Hendrickson offered taking and shaking the warm strong hand then nodded as the man strode out into the dark outer halo of the parking lot.

--

"...but you're okay right? You're not hurt right? It didn't..." he slurred through exhaustion.

"I'm _fine_ Dean really..." Sam insisted softly, his eyes flicking from the road to his big brother in the passenger seat. He was leaning between the seat and the door, his eyes closed, his face the color of wet chalk while sweat continued to drip through his hair down his skin.

Sam reached out his hand startling the man, though not even enough to get him to crack his eyes open; with the back of his hand on his forehead first then his cheek, "Dude you're like ice..." he hissed pulling to the shoulder of the road, "...and you need another bag of antibiotics..."

Sam reached over Dean, his hand slapping the locks on both passenger side doors down before he did the same for the rear drivers' side door, then opened his own slowly with a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth as Dean tossed his head to the side and muttered,

"Nnuh...nohn't..."

He patted the older man on the shoulder, "S'alright Dean... I'll be right back," half out of the car he stopped, cut the engine and pocketed the keys before locking the driver door and finally moving to the trunk to find what he needed.

_Dean spun in a circle, his heart in his throat. Wet pavement shined like satin in the moonlight, a branch reaching off in each of four directions. He stood in the center, nocturnal life bringing sound to the night, "Sam?" he lurched in one direction, then another, 'they all look the same... Where are you Sam? Which way did you go?' "SamMY!" he called and froze, feeling ice along his spine while he waited for the night sounds to mock him, to mimic the fear in his voice. _

'_oh God I lost him...Dad's gonna kill me... it's my fault... had to ride a freakin' pony and he's gone... damn stupid Dean!' he thought frowning hard. 'that was so long ago though, I found him since then didn't I?'_

"_SAMMY ANSWER ME!... please..." his breath burned in his chest, his heart beating against its bony prison, reaching tendrils of throbbing fear up his throat, 'someone's got him... someone's gonna hurt him... I just KNOW it... please don't let Sam be hurt... please. I promise I'll be a good boy... I'll do EVERYthing JUST right... I promise, just so long as Sammy's safe...I'll be the best big brother anyone could need I SWEAR... just let Sammy be safe please God... Please?'_

_Wind flicked his ear, warmth touched his face and he spun around, his legs pumping, carrying him down the ribbon of black, "SAMMY! Sam Winchester! Where are you!? C'mon Sammy talk to me!" he called drawing to a halt as he reached the center of a four way intersection. 'I didn't run that long...' he turned and looked behind him at the long featureless tarmac strand that seemed to go on forever without a break or bend. _

"_He's mine,"_

"_He's ours,"_

"_You lose,"_

"_He's gone,"_

"_Delicious,"_

"_Wanting,"_

"_Crying,"_

"_Tears,"_

"_So sweet,"_

"_Ours,"_

"_Mine!"_

"_So tender,"_

"_Young,"_

"_OURS!"_

"_Power,"_

"_Strength,"_

"_Mine!"_

"_OURS!"_

"_MINE!" _

_Voices he didn't know slid and sailed over and through one another. 'Like hell he's yours... he's MINE... MY BOY...MY Sam!' he wanted to tell them. He wanted to shout it, he wanted to SCREAM it..._

_In the dark heart of one of the shadows a tiny pale figure seemed suspended, hands of smoky black pulled and yanked, turning, twisting and tearing while a once happy chubbily cherubic face he loved more than life frowned, the head of brown moppish waves shaking back and forth while bright blue-green eyes shined with layers of tears they shed. _

"_No! Please... stop it! You're hurting me...DEEAAANNNN! Daddy!... help me!" he cried. _

"_No! Don't!" Dean lurched toward the figure, his legs racing, "Don't you touch him!"_

"_Dean! HELP ME!" Sam's toddler voice stabbed at his heart as he ran, every ounce of power he could muster channeled to his legs, his arms pumping to close some of the distance between them. _

_In front of him, a puff of darkness turned. Penetrating eyes in porcelain and surrounded by blonde Shirley Temple curls smiled with blood red lips and yellow/brown nicotine stained teeth. It turned raising its red taloned hand, motioning to the little boy suspended in black air, his chest and tummy smeared with red-orange lipstick, heaving with cries and calls for help. _

"_No! DONT YOU TOUCH HIM!" he screamed pushing harder, racing faster and further than he ever thought he could, 'don't you touch him... not my Sammy please! Don't hurt him! Don't DO that to him!... so help me God! Please God help me...' _

_Panic tore through him, searing his lungs and muscles as the sinister visage grinned once more at him, waggled a finger, and turned its back on him, obscuring his baby brother from his sight. _

"_NO!" he cried again, as the horror began to blacken, winding around his screaming baby brother, the baby that was screaming for him to come and save him, the one he knew he was going to fail even as all around him the air went dark again and he stood in the center of a crossroads once more, each road leading down an identical path of pitch with no Sam in sight. _

"_No..." he gasped falling to his knees, "Sam... Oh God Sam... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... SAMMY!" he roared to the night sky. _

"Dean!...Ow..." Sam grunted feeling the trunk latch dig a gouge into his head as he bolted upright with the sound of his brother's chilling cry.

With a blanket and a bag of I.V. antibiotics in hand he dashed to the passenger door and opened it slowly to keep Dean from falling out.

"Hey... hey Dean, it's okay..." he leaned his big brother forward against his chest, securing the blanket tightly against the shivering that racked him, "Oh jeez dude... c'mon Dean..."

"Sam?" his eyes fluttered open and his hand grasped his little brother by the face, "Sammy?"

"Yeah Dean, its okay..." he swallowed hard as Dean blinked water from his eyes, trying to reorient himself.

"Where're we?" he asked pushing against Sam's solid support to straighten himself out.

Sam shook his head with a worried smile, "Road to nowhere..."

He dug Dean's hand out from beneath the blanket, "Gimme your hand man..." and secured the end of the I.V. line into the hub of the catheter. "How are you? You're cold as ice man, we gotta get you some help Dean..."

The elder hunter shook his head, "Mmm'okay... had a dream Sammy... I think it was a dream..." he squinted at his little brother, "...did you ever...? No..." he gasped, his eyes growing wide and fearful as he grasped Sam by the jacket, "You can tell me Sam... you can tell me the truth okay? Really... it's okay man, I understand..."

"What Dean?" Sam shook his head, confused and unnerved.

"Mmma'freak..." Dean shook his head, his eyes sliding closed as his breathing grew shallow and faster, "D'he ever get you Sam? Momma psychofreak... I saw you on the wall y'know..."

"Dean what're you talking about?" Sam's brows furrowed and his heart started to race.

"On the wall Sam... I should've burned them with mine... I'm so sorry little brother..." he sniffed clasping the youngest Winchester at the neck and shoulder.

"There's nothing to be sorry about Dean... Look you're scaring the crap outta me here okay, we're gonna get to a motel and you're gonna get some rest okay? I'll keep watch, there won't be anything to worry about... and if you're not better in the morning I'm hauling your ass to a hospital do you understand me?" he asked sternly.

Dean's hand, as cold as if he'd been holding an ice pack ran down Sam's face, "You can tell me... I should'a burned em... shoulda never let anyone see you like that... God I'm sorry..." he sniffed no longer able to hold himself up.

Sam eased him back into the seat and strapped him in then locked the door shutting him safely inside the car. _Dean please just keep fighting...maybe I should take him to a hospital right away... I can't protect him in a hospital though._ He nodded to himself and sighed, _I'll give him till morning, jeez dude what kind of a nightmare are you drowning in? And how can I help you?_ He wondered feeling the weight of despair heavy on his heart as he shut the trunk and headed toward the driver door, the sound of something crunching on the gravel at the side of the road.

--

tbc.

Please R&R.

Thanks.

sifi


	15. Chapter 15

Twilight - chpt 15

by: sifi:

--

Razor-like claws slashed across his back as Sam slid along the dewy blacktop, snarls, barks and growls surrounded him dashing and yelping dizzyingly. _What the hell?_ a block of solid weight hit him in the back, _Werewolves?_ he wondered flipping over, his hands up protectively around his neck as a flash of long white snapped just a little too close to his eye. _Holy shit! _He flung his arm out reflexively, his hand grasping a fist full of thick wet fur. _That's no werewolf..._

"Dean! Get me a gun!" he bellowed hoping his brother was present of mind enough to be able to do that much. "Get the hell off me!" he shoved the huge black wolf into one of its pack mates and scurried back toward the car, his head turning frantically left and right, trying to keep track of the creatures.

Fangs and claws gouged as four raging pure muscle bodies hit him at once, "DEAN!" he had no way to tell if his voice could even be heard above the melee. _Please hear me Dean... please! Oh man... not like this... _he yelped as either claws or teeth sunk into his flank, bringing his arm down as powerful jaws closed on his forearm, the head jerking and snapping despite his pull against it. Another yelp popped out of him as his arm finally came free, no matter how much of it he was sure was left in the animals' mouth.

Snarling slavering jaws bit and tore as he ducked his head under his arms tearing the stitches Tom put into him while he brought his knees to his chest. White hot shot through him as a set of fangs dove right for fresh blood sensing weakness and snagged deep into his wounded shoulder. _And WHY do I NOT have a gun on me? Cause I'm a freakin' idiot That's why! _he berated himself yelling as this time another jaw tore into his calf, the power of the beast undeniable as it jerked backward, joined by yet another that thankfully only had a grip on his pant leg, as they started to drag him across the road.

"Son of a BITCH... DEEEAAN!" he grasped the jaw of another of the animals, wondering if it was mad or if there was another force at work here.

An explosion and a waft of cordite brought a series of yelps as the pack darted across the road leaving Sam heaving for breath on all fours in the middle of the tarmac until he felt himself lifted to his feet by the scruff of the neck.

"Come on..." Dean swung him around in his good right arm and shoved him toward the driver door, keeping his eyes peeled as he backed toward the passenger side and slid into the car beside his little brother.

He put the gun on the dash and turned, grasping Sam by the jacket and turning him so they were face to face, "You okay?" he breathed glancing over the scratches and bloody rends in his brother's skin.

Sam nodded silently, "...a few bites..." he took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes swallowing fear.

"Sam?" Dean asked, ever attuned to his state of mind.

_I didn't think you heard me... I thought I was wolf chow and you weren't... you wouldn't, couldn't... COULDN'T..._ "Yeah... m'okay... thanks," he nodded digging stiffly into his pocket for the keys then quickly leaving the pack behind, standing in the middle of the road staring at the receding tail lights, the red reflected in four sets of lupine eyes.

"Dean?"

"Huh?"

_Are you better now? What were you dreaming? Have you ever heard of a wolf pack attacking a human before? Like that? Do you think it was..._

He reached his right hand out stiffly, wincing with the motion, feeling blood running down his side as he put his hand on his brothers' forehead surprised that Dean didn't back away.

"You're warmer... are you a little better?" he asked.

"Dude I'm freakin exhausted... I could sleep for a month," he groaned.

"Yeah... hey..." Sam started then stopped again.

"Yeeees?"

Sam shook his head.

"Spit it out Sam what?"

"You came this close to ending up in a hospital tonight Dean... have you ever seen wolves attack like that?"

"No, well, yeah kinda, but... maybe I shoulda shot one of 'em... seen what happened..." Dean frowned.

"What d'you mean?" Sam asked, "I didn't think you could hear me... I thought you were out cold y'know?" he blurted quietly.

_I'll always hear you Sam... _ "During the dryad thing... I saw some... stuff..."

"What?" Sam asked, "You never told me anything..."

"I wasn't sure it was real..." he shrugged frowning at his little brother.

"What?" Sam asked.

"The marauder, in the Sidhe universe it used animals..."

Beside him Sam sat up straight and breathed deeply, an obvious connection made somewhere in the back of his mind.

"What?" Dean asked.

_Momma psycho freak was Aaron Beyers! The pictures the cops found on his wall... got it... God Dean I'm sorry... '...shoulda burned 'em with mine...' _echoed in his head again as a shiver shook him wondering how his big brother had managed to keep such a burden buried so deeply. _I'm sure as hell betting Dad never knew, geez Dean and you think I'm stronger than you? _his heart squeezed with pain.

Sam shook his head dismissively, "Ripped my stitches... how're yours holding up?"

Dean pulled his shirt away from his body and looked down at the slightly spotted gauze on his chest "Not bad... a little oozing maybe... my back's killing me though where that freakin' hook snagged me..."

They rode in silence for a time, casting glances back and forth until Sam knew it was dangerous for them to still be on the road and the sky behind them began to turn gray.

"Give Tom and Shep a call, find out where they are," Dean muttered ushering Sam into their newest motel room.

"Where are we Dean?" Sam asked yawning.

"I don't know..." he groaned then shrugged, "...don't care... just set that stick of holy wood smokin', salt the door and take off your shirt... I wanna check those bites you got."

"They're alright... mostly got my jacket..."

"And the bullet hole... and there's a graze on your neck, and you're moving like an 80 year old woman, don't argue with me..." the older brother grumbled.

"Alright alright... this from the guy who couldn't put his own pants on yesterday, sheesh."

"Shuddup..." Dean smirked feeling like a 90 year old as he shambled back and forth drawing out basic supplies to start with and stacking them on the table.

--

"Where are you you little bitch!" Laura hissed through clenched teeth, _"What's the matter emissary? Losing your mojo? I'm right here..." _

'_Not you...,'_ she thought following a line of chill into the darkness.

"Laura!" Tommy's voice stretched out behind her, reaching for her through the wooded expanse.

'_Damnit! Tom... just go away you're gonna get us both killed!' _she sighed and stopped, listening, every cell stretched out into the world, every molecule on high alert as she closed her eyes and touched the universe.

"Damnit Laura! Answer me!" his shout receded, moving away from her position.

'_Ssssshhhhhhhh Tom... you'll attract its attention...'_ she thought and ran a hand through his hair, though there was a hundred yards at least, between them.

"Wha..." Tom turned batting at the sensation of a hand on his head, "Laura?" he whispered wheeling around in circles, wondering if he was losing his mind or if the creep factor was finally starting to get to him, he'd seen things tonight he didn't mind admitting, that all his seasoning as a hunter hadn't prepared him for.

Shaking her head with the deep sense of his unease skewing the energies she hoped to touch tonight, she crept stealthily toward him.

'_Go back, you're not equipped for this... please Tom,'_ he felt warmth caress his cheek, the taste of a last kiss he hadn't forgotten in the three years since losing her to a vicious poltergeist came to his mouth, _'God Soph I miss you... if I could go do it all again I'd do it right... I'd save you baby...'_

When her hand came over his mouth, for a second he didn't know if it was real or another illusion.

"Go to the boys Tom... protect them... quietly..." Laura urged.

"And leave you here? Alone?" he looked her up and down, "You DO realize you're running around half nekked don't you?"

She smiled, _If you only knew what I was wearing in the last world this thing attacked, _"If I'm right..." she shook her head, "... it needs life energy... it could be weaker right now... Go Tom... Please, protect my boys while I try to find out."

"If something happens to you... you know that man will never forgive me," he argued quietly.

"Either of them being here would make it worse for ALL of us... besides... I'll just have to be real careful then won't I?" she asked.

"Do you know _how_ to be? You let that thing take you... you LET it do..." he motioned up and down her body, "...for what?"

"More than you understand yet," around her the air seemed to tremble and a chill shot through her bones, _it's looking for someone to feed on..._ "Tom please... GO! NOW!" she urged shoving him as she glanced over her shoulder.

"I hate this..." he scowled letting her push him, understanding that her priorities were sitting in a room, God only knew where, trying to hide from a bigger evil than he or Shep had figured existed.

"Noted... Go," she smiled and pressed her lips to his cheek before disappearing into the darkness.

He felt the faint draw of gently puckered lips on his cheek and retraced his steps to the car to do as she asked.

'_Be careful Laura... whatever you're up to... don't make me bring Dean bad news please...boy is he gonna be pissed...' _he thought wondering if she could hear his thoughts.

--

_I'll try Tom..._she smiled wiping away the trickle of blood then stopped and looked around, _I really don't want to see this again... I CAN'T see this again...someone please help me this time...Please... _ a shudder worked its way through her alongside memories she'd rather have been able to leave behind.

_It hasn't gone too far yet..._ and in the back of her mind a song she hadn't heard in decades spooled out, _'You've even gone a bit too far... to get the message home.. before it gets too frightening... we ought to call a halt... so could we start again please?_ "...Could we start again..." she finished the song softly as her hackles stood on end and she broke out in gooseflesh.

'_Stop...breathe...' _something deep inside warned.

Her body flew backwards, propelled by crushing hot incessant waves of hate, pressing her against the bole of some ancient tree that knew better than to get involved in the struggles of man.

Still, it held her, it gave of itself in a way that most were not equipped to understand, its roots embedded in the deepest histories of the world long before human kind walked upright.

'_Oh crap...'_ she thought following the deepest tendril of hate as it drew her in a parallel path to the road. _'How the hell did it manage to stop freakin' traffic?'_ she wondered fleetingly before the blue flicker of the County Sheriff's mars bars caught her attention. _'Another cop... well it definitely knows how to play the system... damnit...'_

--

"...it's not like she gave me a whole lot of choice youngun..." Tom shook his head trying to justify himself as he drove her car toward the Winchester brothers.

"Yeah..." Dean clipped on the other end of the phone, "... you touch base with Shep yet?" he asked.

"Yeah he's on his way to you too... what'd'ya have in mind?"

Dean hung his head barely able to keep his eyes open while in the bed opposite him Sam tossed his head muttering, his hands flailing in the growing light.

"Get a room, get some sleep, don't call at least till three... I got nuthin' left," he grunted swilling from the two thirds gone whiskey bottle and managing to miss half his mouth.

"What about..." Tom spoke slowly.

Dean nodded, "If she thinks it might be weaker... we gotta trust she'll find out," he sighed not liking that she was out there on her own. In fact more upset than he could spare to be about it, but literally lacking the energy to do anything but demonstrate his faith.

"Dean?" Tom asked feeling his skin crawl. This was miles away from what he expected from the elder of John's sons, and as such, his foot pressed harder on the accelerator.

"Yeah ... was a losing battle the first time... she'll come home to me..." Sam's cell slid closed as Dean fell headlong into the thorny arms of recent moments married sideways to others of his past he wished regularly that he could forget.

--

"No dude you can't do that... c'mon now Dean..." Sam pleaded softly and grasped his brother by the shoulders turning him back toward his bed.

He'd awoken to the disturbing sensation of his brother digging in his jeans pockets mumbling about needing to get on the road.

"Don't do this man, please..." he half whimpered pushing as gently as possible, taking in the cloud of heat that surrounded his big brother. "Dean..." he sniffed, _Why did I wait so long to start looking for you? What was I thinking?_ breath trembled through his chest as Dean's head rolled loosely up, his face flushed high with fever, his mouth pursed in confusion.

"Nohn't unnerstan Szam... ss'wrong, I can feel it... c'mon...we gotta go..." he grasped his little brother's shirt in his fists, "You can drive..." he nodded.

Sam shook his head, "No Dean..." as Dean lurched in his grip Sam stumbled backwards, his arms and legs lead-heavy, his head fuzzy and hot while inside he could taste the metal of illness in the back of his mouth, _God I can't afford to get sick too... please..._ "Please..." he tried to turn his big brother away from the door, _Where's Shep and Tom? What time is it?_ his eyes scanned the room for the clock and he frowned lurching for Dean who'd spun out of his grip, _Where the hell ARE we?_

"C'mon Szam..." Dean reached for his shoulder, his feet interlocking over one another to send him at a careless stumble into his little brother, mashing the man between himself and the motel room door.

Both men howled together, Dean when his left arm half folded between their bodies, and Sam as glowing poker-hot stabbing impaled his shoulder, blackening his vision as rich musty, with a tang of rot erupted into his nose with the motion.

"Aww crap..." he grunted lifting Dean off of his chest, unable to frown in the face of his big brother's goofy 'oops' grin.

"Dude you're hot..." he frowned, his hand slapping over Sam's forehead and cheek, "...got a fever little brother... C'mon..." he tugged at Sam's shirt, "... g'ta, ge'choo to a doctor... m'boy's got a fever..." he fell face forward against Sam's chest again, his knees buckling as his little brother grasped frantically for him, another stabbing rend shooting through his arm, dragging a sharp cry that lit his temper behind it.

"We need to rest Dean..."

"Szam gotta go... gotta save the world...can't sztop..." Dean shook his head against his brother's chest.

"No," Sam shook his head wrapping his arm around Dean's torso, doing his best to turn him back toward the bed. A forgetful grasp brought a yelping snarl from Dean.

"Ooowbitch!" his palm struck Sam's right shoulder, nearly dropping the youngest Winchester to the floor in pain.

With muddled head Sam's reflexes took over, his hand balled into a hammer fist, connecting like iron against Dean's temple, knocking him flat back to the floor, his consciousness set free for the time being.

"Friggin' jerk..." Sam snarled grasping Dean by the back of his shirt and pulling him toward the bed. His fingers slipped from the fabric sending the young hunter tripping stumbling onto the bed where his shoulder and upper chest erupted in fire.

With a groan he slid to the floor panting breathlessly until his own senses receded, shooting him into the fevered nightmares of his own subconscious.

--

tbc.

Please R&R

thanks sifi


	16. Chapter 16

Twilight – chpt 16

by: sifi

--

"Yeah I hear the phone ringing hurry up," Tom scowled as Shep deftly turned the lock, then the knob and slid the picks into his pocket.

"Oh shit..." he groaned charging into the room where both of John's boys lay on the floor, neither man conscious.

"Sam? Sammy? C'mon little man... wake up for me here bud..." Tom slapped gently at the young mans' face, "God Shep he's burnin' up...why do I smell wet dog?" he crinkled his nose taking in the sight of the man. "What the hell happened? Looks like he's been mauled..."

"Smells like it too...C'mon Dean..." Shep urged grasping the elder man into his arms and hoisting him groaning onto the bed, "God he's on fire too... Tom..." he frowned at his nephew.

"I know, I know. Bobby said Dr. Abrams was going to make himself available to consult with whoever could do the surgery?" Tom nodded helping a slightly less incoherent Winchester to his feet to deposit him on the bed, "Sam? Sammy... c'mon buddy open your eyes huh?" he urged.

"Dean..." Shep looked up, "Think we oughtta call an ambulance?"

Tom nodded, "I think so..."

"Hmmm?" Sam groaned shaking his head, his teeth snapped on his tongue as a shiver shook him and he blinked at Tom, "Cold..." he sniffed as Tom drew the comforter over his shoulders.

"Listen little man... we got an issue here bud... can you tell me what happened?" he asked noting the fresh dark red and thick pungent scent of animal borne infection. He quickly set about working the buttons of Sam's shirt, spreading the right side open, peeling the cotton off the jaggedly torn bullet hole he'd stitched neatly closed earlier, and sat back deflated, "Son of a bitch..."

"What?" Shep asked holding Dean up, trying to get him to swallow a little water.

"Ssza'matter?" Dean grunted, his eyes fluttering open, his cheeks bright red against waxy pallor while his gaze sought his little brother, "Szammy?" he frowned and rubbed the side of his head, "D'ju? He did..." he looked at Shep, "He it'me," using the older man to push himself unsteadily to his feet, Dean gazed with glassy eyes across the room.

"S'wrong wi'im?" he asked wobbling his head back and forth between Tom and Shep, "Sammy..." he stumbled forward grateful to their friends for being there as his concern for his little brother forced his awareness to sharpen.

Clutching Shep hard he slowly lowered himself to his knees in front of his barely cognizent baby brother. He reached up, his hand soft against Sam's fiery cheek.

"Sammy?" he asked, pushing the young man's head back so he could look into his glazed eyes, "C'mon little brother... we gotta get'choo to a doctor okay?"

Sam shivered, half leaning against Tom and half leaning into his big brother's own fever cloud, "Mm hmm..."

Dean looked back and forth between Shep and Tom, "S'go..." he nodded, pulling himself to his feet with the older mans' help.

"Dude we're gonna call an ambulance... just get your ass back in bed youngun..." Shep instructed.

"Nuh nuh... Yemen ... we drive..." Dean slung his head back and forth.

"Okay, okay... and... Bobby called..."

Both Winchester brothers' attention fixed on him, each of them at least momentarily almost clear, "S'not good..." Sam's head wobbled as tears overflowed his eyes and he leaned into Tom, "Noooo... No, no... s'my fault... No... Tom... Dean... Mm'sorry Dean!" he reached forward with wet ribbons down his cheeks, "...my fault... shoulda looked sooner, never woulda happened, you'd get to keep your arm..." Tom helped the young man to his feet wincing in sympathy.

"No Sam... no... little man..." he soothed watching the youngest Winchester draw his arm across his face and lurch toward his speechless brother.

"C'mon Sam... can't be bad as all that... let's jus'get us 'nother opinion 'kay?" his breath hitched as mist flipped over the edges of his eyes.

"There _is_ no other opinion Dean... they have to go in... they might be able to save your arm but we gotta get this done ASAP, do you understand me? You both got raging infections... Sam smells and looks like he was mauled by pack of wild dogs..."

"Wolves..." Sam swung his head around.

"How the hell did THAT happen?" Shep asked leading them out of the room and into the parking lot toward the rental car.

Dean shook his head, torn between running the traitorous appendage at the wall until it fell off, and just falling to his knees in tears, _If I'd been just a little better, or faster, or more vigilant about the antibiotics maybe it wouldn't be like this... if I'd done better I wouldn't'a been captured and this wouldn't be happening... why couldn't I be better?_ he wondered, _If I was better, I would'a been faster and Sammy wouldn't be hurt... I'm sorry Sam... didn't mean to get you hurt little brother..._ he sighed hanging his head in equal measure from exhaustion as well as shame.

"It used demon, or maybe Igigi possessed animals in its army to slaughter the Sidhe in their universe before it shattered..." he nodded to them.

--

Laura felt Tom drive away, certain the boys would be alright in his and Shep's capable hands as she crept toward the blinding blue flash of the County Sheriff's car parked at an angle to blockade the road.

_Damnit I shoulda grabbed a shirt... I'm gonna get cold..._ she thought with a shake of the head, _No, I'm just gonna observe, I don't even have the sword with me... there's still things I can do though... "Oh yeah? What if I just..." _she fought the sudden urge to stand up straight, and swallowed the shout that nearly popped from her throat, _'You bitch! Up your ass! You don't get to control me! You're DEAD, do you understand me? You're nothing but a shadow!' _she scowled clinging tightly to the skin of the tree.

"_Yeah but I'm a DEMON shadow emissary... which means I got a little more practice layin' around inside someone than your average... slice? Is that what you call it?"_ she could almost feel the slice of demon shaking her head, the severing of perspectives making her slightly nauseous, _Awww hell I thought I was done with that with most of Dean's infection gone now... maaan... that sucks. "I could make your head spin if you'd like bitch... y'know I wish you could've seen the Champion's eyes as I beat him... they fairly glowed with pain and loathing... it was... inspiring..." _

Laura swallowed, part of her crawling with the sensation of this creature inside her. It wasn't the first time she'd had a slice of demon in her head, she hadn't liked it then, and she still didn't like it.

"_He cried y'know... little bitty human tears sliding out, betraying his weakness... he cried and I laughed, then I hit him again," _

'_You think tears make someone weak? You sad pathetic creature,' _she scowled fighting her own tears against the sense of pure joy this creature had taken in causing pain to someone so dear.

"_I don't have to pick on the boy y'know... yeah true it hurts you delicious when I do, but... heh, yeah, you got some interesting stuff all your very own in here I could screw around with..." _

'_Not Morgan... of course it's gonna be Morgan... Please not Morgan... I should've been able to stop that, I should've been able to save him...' _

"_Oh yeah... you got some truly delicious stuff... I think... I need to dig deep in your refrigerator bitch... you got some 'ready-to-walk' leftovers in here... sheeit... we gonna have some fun... as the song says, 'Ain't we havin' some fun now?'..." _

Her arm ran under her running nose, her eyes leaking to sink a ship as she focused her vision on the road, watching carefully, waiting for that moment when the Sheriff, who seemed to be engaged in little more than spot checks, would call to the abomination she could feel laying hidden somewhere close by. Cloaked somehow by the life essences in the woods, _Why can't it draw from the woods? Why couldn't it draw from the woods in the Sidhe universe? What am I missing?_ she wondered sinking the fingers of her right hand into the earth at the base of the tree, while the puffy purples ones of her left held tight to the grooves and ridges of bark.

A string of cool black nothingness called to her, drew her mind toward it, an absence of warmth and life rather than a chilling of it, it begged her to join it, to simply _'Let go...Open... just feel it...' _the promise of emptiness beckoned, the promise of simply ceasing carried a cold empty joy. She breathed deep and with her mind grasped the thread, _'take me to death...'_

--

Two sets of tissue-paper covered feet stopped before them, drawing Tom's attention from the computer and Shep's from one of the books they'd brought in.

"Mr. McGregor?"

"Mr. Daykin?" each doctor addressed a man.

"Yeah?"

"Yep?" they answered together.

The doctors looked at each other, then each to the man before him,

"Would you come with us please?" the elder surgeon asked.

"S'up?" Shep asked closing the book as Tom closed the laptop.

"We'd like you to come and see if you can help our patients calm down a little bit. Neither one of them seems to want to cooperate until they know the other is going to be alright and we don't want to have to sedate them excessively. Dr. Abrams stressed that they've both been under some rather extreme duress lately..."

"I'll take the little man..." Tom nodded.

The doctor who stood in front of him frowned, "Alright... then you go with Dr. Fitzgerald."

Tom frowned, "But you're the one workin' with Sam..."

"That's right," Dr. Benson nodded.

"Sam's the baby..." Tom threw a look at Shep who snickered, "Nevermind, just take me to Sam."

"Way t'confuse 'em youngun..." Shep chuckled.

"Awww eat me man, I don't care if he gets ta'be ten feet tall, he's always gonna be the 'little man'," Tom grinned knowing he'd never get the image of wee-Sam Winchester grinning around his whole fist in his mouth, out of his head. "And six three ain't little by half old man... Dean probably woulda had an extra three inches on him too if their daddy'd fed 'em much else but spaghettios and pop tarts."

Nodding his nephews assessment Shep asked, "How're their fevers? Are they still delirious?"

"The delirium is subsiding though they both do seem to have moments of severe disorientation. It's actually the elder brother we're most concerned about. With the need to anesthetize him for the surgery we'd like him as calm as possible. And he's going to need some post traumatic counseling when this is all over. Flashbacks aren't uncommon, but with the level of violence done to him..." Dr. Benson breathed deeply and frowned.

"What else?" Shep asked.

"As far as you know... did Mr. Fogerty ever suffer any severe traumas during his childhood?"

A harsh laugh barked out of the older hunter, "Lemme count the ways... neither boy's had it easy their whole lives... what are you talking about specifically?" he asked.

"Was he ever kidnapped? Or abandoned?" the doctor asked.

"Why would you ask something like that?" Shep asked, his mind skipping backward immediately to two times in Dean's youth that he knew could fit the bill.

Dr. Benson frowned looking between his associate and Tommy who was listening intently.

"Walk with me Mr. McGregor..." he turned on his heel with a nod to his associate who guided Tom along the same hallway.

As the automated double doors opened Tom and Shep wondered, while passing several ER bays, why they didn't just work on the boys in the same bay to keep them calm.

"Doc, if they're giving ya a hard time why don't y'all just prep 'em up in the same room so they can see each other?" Tom finally did ask.

"It's against hospital policy to work on family members in the same room. If something went wrong..." Dr. Fitzgerald explained.

"Ahh... yeah, do yourselves a favor... make an exception with these boys... it'll make life easier on everyone," Shep smiled as the sound of metal bits raining to the floor slid into the hallway with the eldest Winchester behind it.

"SamMY!" he called shambling into the hall, half leaning on the IV pole he was death-gripping with his right hand. At the sight of Tom and Shep walking with the doctors he stopped short and frowned.

"Where the hell's my brother!" his face twisted with fear and pure hostility as he lurched toward the group.

"Dean?" answered Sam's tenor from across the hall, "S'alright Dean..." he assured from behind one of the curtained areas.

"Y'know... I'm starting to think we should probably get both of them prepped in the same bay..." Dr. Fitzgerald sighed watching Dean disappear behind one of the curtains with Shep hot on his heels.

"You might be right," Dr. Benson smiled as Tom slid away from them and behind the curtain as well.

--

"Aww jeez Sam..." Dean breathed shoving a stool toward the table where his little brother lay on his stomach, the back of his gown open, revealing easily more than a dozen foot long tears and several smaller nics that he supposed were probably bites from the wolves. At his flank a gouge had been torn and it looked like maybe even some meat had been ripped away.

The resident cleaning the youn man's wounds looked up, about to try to urge Dean from the room but with the arrival and nod of the surgeons he simply drew the draping up a little as the triage room filled with unfamiliar faces.

"Here y'go youngun..." Shep slid a chair behind Dean's legs, not willing to risk him falling from one of those rolling stools, and guided him into it then slid it forward toward Sam.

"Thanks Shep..." he looked up smiling tiredly, and felt tension leech a little from his shoulders with a touch across them from Tom who passed to crouch between him and his brother.

"How're ya feelin' little man?" Tom asked ruffling Sam's hair.

"Like Grindle's old tug sock..." Sam smiled the loose, half present smile of the drugged.

Tom's eyes bulged open, "Wow... pretty crappy then huh?"

"Yeah..." he nodded unable to see Dean for the moment, "I shoulda been faster Tommy... I shoulda... I knew something was wrong... I KNEW it... when I found the pendant but... when I had the vision I couldn't wait, she wanted me to but I couldn't and it was the right call, it was a GOOD call, but how can he forgive me man? Huh? I screwed up so royal this time..." Sam sighed, his head dropping onto his bandaged forearm, air shuddering in his lungs.

Tom glanced back over his shoulder noting the twist of pain in the elder brothers' face, then got up and drew the chair, complete with Dean in it, forward.

"Hey..." Dean nodded his thanks and ran his hand into Sam's hair, his fist squeezing in a way that was familiar only to the boys, "Don't you for one second think that any of this is your fault Sam... never! No matter WHAT happens okay?"

Sam's red rimmed eyes looked up, pleading into Dean's, "But I let you down Dean..."

"Never have Sam, it's just not possible little brother..."

"We look out for each other... it's what we're supposed to do," he sniffed.

"Sam you saved my life. You knew what to look for and you FOUND me. I've seen you do things over the last couple days I'm not sure I could've done if our places were reversed..."

Sam nodded, half smiling despite his watery eyes, "You..." he stopped and looked around with a deeply red face and motioned Dean closer then whispered, "You used to change my freakin' diapers man... you've handled plenty..."

Shep, Tom, the surgeons and the resident watched curiously as Dean's shoulders rolled forward and a bark rolled out of his throat, at first once, then twice... and a moment later the older brother was half rocking in the chair, clutching his belly and laughing. His little brother still on his stomach began to laugh as well despite the shimmer down his cheeks.

"What needs to be done doc?" Dean asked ruffling Sam's hair once more before resting his hand on his little brother's upper arm while they listened to each surgeon's plan of action, facing whatever modern medicine would bring to them, just as they faced every challenge in their lives, each man at the others side.

--

tbc

Please R&R.

Thanks sifi


	17. Chapter 17

Twilight – chpt 17

by: sifi.

--

It was absence of life that drew her forward, a void shifting its position through an area that should have been saturated with living energy. As she stalked her quarry; that slice of demon rummaged through the skeleton filled closets of her mind, sifting through 'boxes' of memories of lives gone by, events of the past, things she'd long ago hoped to forget, or to attempt redemption for. A flash of a face with cerulean blue eyes gazing sightlessly upward and spattered with crimson brought a stutter to her step.

"_So who was he? Nice eyes... did you pluck 'em out? No? It's a shame, they would've made a nice keepsake. I bet you wanted to though didn't you?" _She could almost feel the demon nodding, and could certainly feel it grinning inside, _"So what'd HE do to deserve such a fate? Or were you just having a bad day?"_ it asked. _'You're not entitled to a response,' _Laura thought closing her mind as tightly as possible against the intruder forcing herself not to even think the man's name. It was bad enough the last vision of his corpse was burned into her brain. _'I would have done things differently if it happened today, but then, this IS a different world,'_ she did acknowledge.

The scent of burning wood and flesh rolled through the back of her nose as the demon dragged out another memory, this one drew out from her throat a tight grunt as the pleading, tear and soot streaked face with shimmering liquid brown eyes begged her for help.

She grasped a tree, resting her head against its cool misty bark, shame working hard to bring her to her knees while teardrops crackled on the dry leaves below. _"Oooh Hooo... that's a good one... what happened here emissary? Was this YOUR doing? Did you get that little girl 'cleansed' at the stake? God I miss the Puritans, they were so much fun, so what? Was it ergot in the rye? Was it Morgan? Did he do something and you couldn't stop him? C'mon share, get it off your chest... Who'm I gonna tell huh?" _the voice cackled.

'_Yeah... who're you gonna tell...'_ though she could feel her lips tingling with the desire to shout her transgressions for all the world to hear. And more importantly, maybe somehow they might even find their way into the ears of those who kept her anchored to this world. _"Aww everyone makes mistakes...they'd...HE'D forgive you... course they weren't really mistakes now were they? On second thought, maybe he wouldn't."_

--

The double doors swung open and another of the surgical staff appeared, their eyes scanned the room passing over Shep and Tom who for third time this hour sat just that much straighter in their chairs, their eyes glued to that blue covered figure approaching the waiting room, the head half hidden in a bonnet, the mask drawn down and laying cavalierly on his chest, while the bootied-shoes whispered conspiratorially on the shiny tile floor.

"Carter...?" he called and was met by a man with two small children in tow, a brother and sister that appeared to be about eight and four, the brother being the oldest. This little family like the two before them, was ushered into one of the conference rooms and the door closed behind them.

Tom checked his watch, Shep glanced at the clock on the wall, "It's over two and a half hours man... we shoulda heard something from ONE of them by now," Tom grunted.

"They're takin' their time, makin' sure to do the job right Tom. It'll be alright," Shep nodded, heedless of the effect his use of Tom's proper name had on his nephew.

"What have you found?" he asked motioning to the chicken scratch that amounted to Sheps notes.

"Badness son, not much but badness," he shook his head.

The unmistakable scream of a young child sent shivers through both men and drew looks from every one of the dozen sets of eyes in the waiting room just as the door slammed open and a red faced little girl shot out of the room and down the hall to the double doors where she stood slamming her fists and hiccough-sobbing, "Mommy!" until her voice was nothing more than rocky air.

Tom's heart leaped in his throat and tears to his eyes with his own similar memory. With time turning backward inside, he watched the girls' brother dash after her, the tearful and grief stricken father watching with half an eye while nodding numbly at whatever the doctor was saying. In his mind, though the brother grabbed his little sister away from the doors, it was his own hands grabbing a two year old insanely frustrated Sam away from the motel room door.

Something deep in his belly turned much as it had on that long ago night and he set the laptop on the chair beside him then strode haltingly toward the children with Shep watching curiously.

He watched his nephew usher the children away from the doors and back toward the waiting room, the big brother half drowning in the death grip his little sister seemed to have on him. No sooner were they into the hall proper when the doors swung open once more and a bed was pushed into the very spot they'd just vacated, the staffer who was supposed to be pushing the bed was responding to someone behind them and would not have seen the kids.

_Y'always did have a pretty good sense in ya,_ Shep thought cocking half a smile.

A sharp downturn of the mouth caught his attention as Tom turned quickly, dashing behind the doors just as they closed. _Please Lord..._ he thought urgently sticking his notes into the book and piling the laptop into the bag on top of it while he waited for someone to either 'shoo' his nephew from the recovery area or to come get him.

The waiting lasted about 30 seconds post packing, before he slung the strap over his shoulder and sought out the push button that would give him 'behind the scenes' access. He jumped back as the doors opened and Tom waved him quietly in.

Sam lay in one of the cubicles, the rise and fall of his chest so faint it was barely visible. If it weren't for the occasional grunt or furrow of his brows he might've been, _God forbid,_ Shep thought watching his nephew standing protectively at the young hunters' side, his hand resting gently on the pillow above his head ready to reach out with a touch or a pet when the young man showed distress.

"S'up doc?" Shep asked as the curtain was pulled closed around them, "Any word on Dean?" he asked quietly.

"Dean..." Sam's head rolled left and right, "Dean!" he barked.

"Shhh s'okay Sam, just rest little man, everything's okay..." Tom soothed while looking at Dr. Benson who nodded with a shrug. As far as he knew everything was moving along fine.

Sam's head twitched into Tom's palm and his eyes struggled to open, "Dean?" he asked.

"I'll check on his brother in a minute, it looked like Dr. Fitzgerald was getting close to finishing up when we were coming out," he smiled softly.

"Did you..." Shep started to ask.

"I don't know," he pre-empted then motioned to Sam, "He's going to need to stay for a couple days, we're going to have to monitor him closely to make sure we can eradicate the infection before he goes anywhere, and the same holds for Dean. We talked about it before we started the procedures on both men," he paused taking in the look that shot between the boys' guardians.

"I'm under the impression that these gentlemen may be in some serious trouble, Dr. Abrams wasn't clear on details except to say what happened at his hospital after they 'disappeared' was very unpleasant for a number of staff members..."

"Oh hell..." Tom sighed looking at his uncle, "Did Bobby tell you anything?"

Shep shook his head, his brow furrowed, "Nuh uh... probably didn't wanna take the chance on us moving again before getting the boys some help."

"Look fellas..." Dr. Benson drew them aside, "Whatever you may be thinking... both of these men will have undergone major surgeries by the time Dr. Fitzgerald is finished. The only reason this one's not in ICU is because the infection didn't manage to infiltrate the whole of his system, as for the other one, I don't mind telling you Dr. Fitzgerald can't explain why he wasn't at least comatose," his voice dropped to become nearly inaudible with respect to his patient, "...if not dead, especially with some of those injuries, and the blood loss we KNOW he had to have suffered."

"So what's your point doc?" Shep asked.

"Point is, whatever went down in Doc Abrams hospital... I won't have it go down here," he met eyes with each of the men, "Can you give me SOME kind of assurance that it won't?"

Tom sighed, "No, but we can try."

Dr. Benson nodded, "Dean had an IV catheter in his hand when you brought him in, and you said he was on antibiotics? Levaquin 750 every four hours for the last two to three days that you're aware of right?"

"Yep," they nodded.

"Same person cleaned him and stitched him up?"

"Yeah," Shep arched an eyebrow, "Why? Something wrong?"

"No, not really... just wondering what kind person would do that kind of work and not even bother to call an ambulance to get him taken care of. Whoever it was had to have known what they were risking by giving him half assed medical care... the man might lose his arm because of it," he growled through clenched teeth.

To Tom's surprise Shep dropped his hand onto the doctors shoulder, "No doc, the man might lose his arm because the same bitch that flogged him with barbed wire, also put a nail through his hand, and his leg, and his elbow not to mention a laundry list of God only knows what else..."

"What's chasing these boys is evil doc... I don't know just how much of that you get, but we're _not_ talking serial killer human borne evil," Tom breathed and noted a slight nod from his uncle, "We're talking whole _worlds_ of different... kind of evil."

Dr. Benson's uneasy chuckle, and quickly shifting eyes brought home to both men the long hard road that their charges would have to face if they were unable to stay with them.

"Doc..." Shep began with a gentle hand on the man's shoulder, "Y'ever wondered what just might be out there beyond the day to day?"

--

"Ma'am, please step out of the car," Deputy Berkins stepped back and began to motion to the remaining few cars stopped behind this one, to continue on their way.

"Officer I don't understand, is there something wrong?" she asked through her slightly opened window while her eyes flicked to the rear view mirror where in the back seat three young girls dressed in Brownie uniforms lay woven around each other sleeping soundly.

"Ma'am I need you to step out of the car please..." he insisted.

Fran Wainwright threw the car into park, and unfastened her seatbelt then pushed the driver door open. She grabbed the keys out of the ignition and auto-locked the vehicle then tiredly drew her seven months pregnant body out onto the street with purse in hand.

"Whatever reason you think you have for hauling my cookies out of the car at 3 o'clock in the morning better be damned good Officer... I want your name and badge number..." she didn't get an opportunity to finish the statement before her body crumpled to the ground with a set of taser leads sticking out of her chest.

Stooping at her side Deputy Berkins' hand shook as he fought the need to pick up the keys and unlock the car. To give access to those sleeping children to whatever it was that had crawled into his head and was forcing him to do this.

A hard body barreled into him before his finger could touch the keys, and no matter how he used what he knew to fight back, the gratitude he felt as his finger undid the snap on his holster was pervasive. Sandpaper covered steely knuckles grated across his jaw as at the edge of the road plants and bushes rustled bringing him face to face with the creature that he just KNEW had entwined itself in his mind.

Red-orange light crackled in the empty sockets as an atrocity in a child's body stepped forward, around the car. The woman who'd hit him, the one whom he was trying with all his might to NOT shoot, slid behind him wrapping her arm around his neck and her legs around his waist. Her grip was nearly crushing as he felt both of their bodies slide back a few feet along the tarmac.

"You wanna shoot something shoot THAT!" the woman hissed into his ear.

His arm moved quickly, under his own volition with the woman's words, _Hell YES I wanna shoot that thing!_ he thought with a shiver and pulled the trigger.

The body was knocked over the sprawled legs of the pregnant woman and onto its back and for a split second everything stopped.

The Deputy made to move but a quick twitch of Laura's arms and legs stayed him. "It's not dead..." she breathed into his ear.

The man, literally in her clutches had the good sense to keep his mouth shut though his head did nod. "Don't move," she breathed again and loosened her grip on him.

When she'd hit him Deputy Berkins hadn't really seen her and as he felt the pull of his shirt when she peeled herself from his back he wasn't sure he wanted to. In over a dozen years as a County Sheriff's Deputy he'd seen a lot of strange things, and knew people were capable of doing and surviving horrific things, but beginning with his shooting of that young man with the classic car yesterday he wondered if he'd be able to get past this.

He watched her step around him, inching toward the supine child's body and frowned noting the myriad wounds she bore, most of them open and weeping, _Dear God, if you're up there... please..._ he started then startled as the body rose in one motion, like something supernatural out of one of those horror movies his kids liked to watch, the marble like hand appeared to grasp the substantially taller woman at the throat, though it certainly wasn't making any contact, and lift her from the ground choking, gasping for air with her feet kicking. His eyes flicked to a spot of what should have been black on the child's forehead, where his bullet had slid into its head, but to his knee-quaking surprise the hole seemed to flicker with the same red-orange light that burned in its sockets.

The woman was cast to the side, slammed hard enough to wrap her body around the trunk of a tree. She tumbled straight to the ground lost in the undergrowth while the thing inside the child turned its focus on unconscious Fran.

"Perfect," its layered voices seemed to sneer as the hand that had somehow managed to fling the woman across the road motioned to him, "Kill the emissary," it instructed.

_No, whatever you're gonna do, you're not gonna do it on MY watch!_ he argued despite the fact that his body was already moving toward the far shoulder with his gun still drawn.

The abomination lowered itself wearily to its knees on the ground, one hand hovered over the woman's throat, the other over her rounded womb. It took a breath with the child's body and lowered its hands toward the woman's flesh, but could not make contact. It tried again, and then once more to make contact with the living energies it sought to steal before a scream of rage boiled the air in a column toward the area Laura had gone down.

"Get down..." she muttered blowing another bubble of blood from her nose when its latest puppet arrived. Her eyes were fixed on the woman, her left hand deep in the earth pointing toward the creature, her right hand pressed firmly to a tree, all around her hand a growing patch of dark rot that told him somehow, this woman was doing to the tree, what that THING had wanted to do to the woman he'd tased.

Above her head a chunk of the tree's trunk exploded in fiery orange flames that seemed somehow to crackle, and through the ground a glowing serpent of blue-white moved through the earth sliding over the unconscious pregnant woman, then filling her until she sat up, her eyes sparking electric blue, her hand reached out, grasping the abomination by the throat and Laura's voice spoke through her, "What's it gonna take to kill you..."

Bruce Berkins watched, unable to comprehend what his eyes were seeing. His existence had been steeped in reality, fairy tales and ghost stories, and creatures that could do the kinds of things he'd been subjected to and witnessed were the stuff of TV shows and movies and yet he couldn't stop watching.

Red-orange crackled and bit against blue-white floes as the woman at his side used the other to try and find the answers it wanted. A silent battle charged the air, the world went still and later he would marvel that on this busy though narrow patch of highway not a single car passed in either direction once he'd sent them past the initial roadblock.

The body of the child began to redden as the blue-white crawled over its head, seeking to envelop it, and he couldn't be sure but he thought he saw parts of it trying to, somehow separate from the whole. A piercing cry that could not have come from anything made on earth shattered the silence as a series of explosions impacted the tree once more until the thunder-crack of broken wood forced him to act.

His hand wavered near the faint blue that seemed to race through her toward the other woman, and for a split second he had the desire to simply cut and run. Shamed by the thought he grasped her by the legs and hauled her out of the way as the majority of the tree tumbled down, crashing as if dropped on end, where she'd been laying.

On the road the thing Laura had been holding through Fran burst into a flesh colored column of roiling smoky substance before disappearing with a screech into the night sky, and the pregnant woman fell back to the ground and began to rouse.

"Oh shit, I knew I shouldn'ta got outta bed this morning..." he breathed turning the woman beside him onto her back and grimacing at the mess of her flesh before feeling for a pulse. "Stay here..." he said and shook his head, _Like there's a choice... stupid ass..._

He moved quickly across the street where the woman was getting to her feet before she doubled over with a scream and water broke over the pavement.

"Oh man..." Bruce sighed grabbing the keys and unlocking the car door, "Just sit down now ma'am... I'm gonna call for an ambulance alright?" he soothed.

She nodded frowning, "What happened?"

"Ma'am... I don't think we wanna know..." he muttered as the three brownies in the back seat started to awaken with the woman's grunts and groans of the start of her labor.

--

All eyes turned as the curtain was drawn aside and Dr. Fitzgerald stepped into the cubicle.

"Dean?" Sam muttered still fighting to come fully awake, "How's m'brother?" he asked.

The surgeon slid the cap off his head, drew a deep breath and nodded, "I've done everything I can."

--

Please R&R

Thanks.

sifi.

--

Twilight has officially ended, but Dawn will come, eventually.

I dearly hope to see everyone who's been so kind and generous, return when she does demand her story be told.

Deepest thanks ... :D Very deepest.

sifi


End file.
